


Morticia and the PTA

by helloitshaley



Category: Addams Family (TV 1964), Addams Family - All Media Types, The Addams Family (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:20:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 28,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25250755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helloitshaley/pseuds/helloitshaley
Summary: When Morticia gets invited to a parent meeting, she gets roped into a world she never expected to be a part of. While Morticia is content to humor her strange new friends by helping them throw a fundraiser, Wednesday is a little less enthused about her mothers new hobby. Worried her mother is getting sucked into the world of pastels and plastic surgery (as if) Wednesday does whatever she can to sabotage the fundraiser.
Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams
Comments: 22
Kudos: 80





	1. Chapter 1

The last thing Wednesday wanted to do when she got home from school was to fork over the envelope burning a hole in the bottom of her backpack. Well, the thing burning a hole in her backpack was a jar of acid, but that wasn’t the point. The point was, Wednesday Addams didn’t want to subject her mother to the torture that the envelope in question promised, no matter how much her mother loved torture.

However, at the same time, the whole prospect had her very intrigued and Wednesday never hid things from her parents. Important things, that is. Her parents had no idea about the decaying frog carcass she stole from school that was currently causing a strong funk in her closet.

So Wednesday found herself walking into the conservatory to find her mother and father after swiftly locking the front door so Pugsley couldn’t get in. She smiled sadistically to herself as he pounded on the front door, shouting declarations of war at her, though she feigned innocence as she walked into the plant filled room.

Morticia looked up from where she was feeding balls of hamburger to Cleopatra and smiled at her daughter. “Wednesday, darling, how was your day?”

“Did you make anyone cry?” Gomez asked eagerly from where he was sitting at a metal table, playing a round of chess with Thing.

“Just Pugsley,” Wednesday flatly replied as she dropped her black bag to the floor. “I have something I have to give you, Mother, but don’t blame me.”

Morticia raised an eyebrow, abandoning her crystal dish to focus on Wednesday. “I love the ominous insinuation of that statement.”

Wednesday frowned, holding the stiff white envelope out to Morticia. “It's from Kelsey Shannon’s mom.”

“Oh dear, is she that blonde woman who uses far too much hairspray?” Morticia asked as she used a long nail to slice through the envelope. 

“Yes.” 

“I’ve always wanted to light a cigar near that woman…” Gomez said, a far away look on his face as he envisioned the fire ball. “What does the card say, Tish?”

Before Morticia could answer, the creaking sound of a stone shifting caught everyone’s attention. Pugsley stuck his head up through the floor, smudges of dirt smeared across his scowling face. “Stop locking me out, Wednesday!”

She smirked as Pugsley pulled himself out of his tunnel. “Move faster next time.”

“Pugsley, old man!” Gomez happily cried. “How was your day?”

“I pantsed my gym teacher!”

Gomez laughed, happily clapping his hands. “I love it!”

“Gomez, darling,” Morticia said, moving over to sit at the table with him and Thing. “This Shannon woman has invited me to her country club for their weekly parents meeting.”

“She was very insistent that I give that to you,” Wednesday said morosely. “She practically chased me down the hall.”

“I don’t quite understand why I haven’t been invited before,” Morticia said thoughtfully as she scanned over the note once again. “If this is seemingly a monthly occurrence.”

“Cara mia, it must be because this woman could never track down Wednesday before,” Gomez said as if that was the most obvious answer in the world.

“She could have picked up a phone,” Morticia muttered. “Nevertheless, I am happy to join them for their little soiree.”

“Tish!” Gomez cried, flipping the chess board over and startling poor Thing in the process. “That's French!” He grabbed Morticia’s arm and began kissing his way up.

“I was going to try and talk you out of going,” Wednesday said. “But now I’m feeling like Pugsley and I should leave the room.”

“No need, darling,” Morticia said before turning her attention on her husband. “Later, Gomez, later.”

Gomez sat back in his seat, looking disappointed. “Might I point out that you also said later a few hours ago?”

“Twenty minutes ago, but yes.” She grinned at him and patted his cheek. “Let's take care of Wednesday first. Why were you going to try to talk me out of it?”

“Because it's obvious that they only invited you because now they need money for something,” Wednesday deadpanned as she crossed her arms.

Morticia and Gomez shared a look. Gomez shrugged and pulled out a fresh cigar from his pocket. “She may have a point.”

“Be that as it may, we aren’t ones for being stingy,” Morticia pointed out.

Wednesday sighed. “Okay, I’m going to go behead something.” She turned to look at Pugsley, who was trying to start a fire with two sticks in the corner of the room. “Let's go.”

Pugsley tossed his sticks behind him and shot to his feet. “What are we going to behead?”

Wednesday grinned. “It's a surprise.”

…

“How do I look?” Morticia asked, walking out of the closet in a tight, black, low cut dress. “Do you think I’ll blend well with the other mothers?” 

Gomez snapped his head up from where he was fidgeting with a cigar. A wide smile spread across his face as he adoringly looked at his wife. “Querida, there is no way you could possibly blend in with the other mothers.”

“And why not?”

“Because your beauty is leagues beyond any other person in the universe!” he exclaimed, standing to walk over to her. “You are a goddess among us mere mortals.” He took her hand and kissed it, which started the slow, languid journey up her arm.

Morticia let out a slight moan of pleasure before she forced herself to back away. “Darling, I can’t be late.”

“Yes you can,” he replied indignantly. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Well, you and Wednesday can start a club, then,” she said, patting his cheek fondly.

“Maybe we will,” Gomez said, crossing his arms. “And it will be called the ‘Morticia is never allowed to leave the house’ club and we will get matching t-shirts.”

Morticia laughed softly as she walked over to her jewelry box. “Darling, if you want to lock me up like a prisoner all you have to do is ask.” She shot him a sensual look as she lifted a diamond and ruby necklace out of it's box. “For now, however, could you please help me put this on?”

“Of course, my love,” Gomez sighed as he went about assisting his wife. “I could drive you, if you’d like. We could give Lurch the night off.”

“But Gomez, you promised Pugsley you would help him with his science project, remember? You were going to help him build that electric urinal.”

“Oh right…” he trailed off, a sadistic smile tugging at his lips. “That is going to be fun.”

“See? You’ll be just fine here without me for a few hours.” She kissed his cheek, leaving a bright red lipstick mark behind. “Bubelah.”

“Oh, Tish, that word!” he cried, lunging for her arm once again. “It goes right through me!”

Morticia smirked. Of course she knew calling Gomez that would drive him wild right before she had to leave. Perhaps she wanted him a bit keyed up for when she got home. After all, this meeting was probably going to be dull, so she would appreciate a bit of fun upon her return home.

“Later, darling,” she said softly, pulling her arm out from under his lips. “I must get going.”

“You will be the death of me, Morticia,” he gasped. “And what a lovely way to go.”

“Darling, can you compose yourself enough to walk me to the front door?” she teased, reaching for his hand.

“Yes, of course, I am nothing if not the picture of composure at all times,” Gomez said as he straightened his tie. “Kids, your mother is leaving!” he yelled as they made their way down to the front door.

Wednesday, who was already sitting at the bottom of the stairs, looked even more morose than normal. “You really don’t have to go,” she said yet again, holding her headless doll tightly to her chest.

Morticia frowned. She tucked her fingers under Wednesday's chin to lift her head. “Do you know something I don’t about these meetings? You’re acting as if I’m going to be walking into a Sound of Music singalong.”

“No, I just don’t want you to feel obligated,” Wednesday said softly. “That's all.”

“You run along and play, Wednesday,” Morticia said, patting her head. “Maybe take Kitty for a walk.” 

Wednesday nodded and walked away, right as Pugsley rushed down the hall with a jumble of wires in his hands. “Bye, Mother!” was all he said in his rush to get to his end destination. 

Morticia turned back to Gomez. “You had better go help him, dear. I shouldn’t keep Lurch waiting outside.”

“Very well,” Gomez sighed. He leaned in and gave her one last goodbye kiss. “I will count the moments until I see you again.”

“How long could it possibly take?” Morticia asked, half to assure her husband and half to assure herself. “I will see you very soon.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Lurch, are you certain this is the right place?” Morticia asked through the partition as she looked at the immaculately landscaped country club. The horrible flowers everywhere aside, the large, white stone club house seemed to be far too cheerful and frankly, far too waspy for Morticia’s taste.

“Yes, Mrs. Addams,” Lurch grumbled. “Followed GPS.”

Morticia sighed, stuffing down her disappointment. “Very well, thank you Lurch.”

“Good luck,” he grumbled as Morticia slid out of the back seat.

Walking in, the sounds of smooth jazz and gardenia scented candles assaulted her immediately. There was a sign in the lobby, directing her down a brightly lit hallway to a room full of gossiping, wine drunk women who were all wearing far too much Chanel perfume. Cautiously, Morticia stepped inside and seemingly gathered everyone's attention instantaneously. 

“Morticia is here!” one woman squealed after a bout of silence. This, to Morticia’s surprise, led to a bunch of other squeals from the women in the room as they swarmed in on her.

Morticia stood stock still, looking around with thinly veiled horror as the gaggle of blondes closed in on her. “This is just like Midsommar,” she whispered.

“Morticia, we are so elated you could join us! I’m Terri Shannon, it is so great to finally meet you.” She threaded her Lilly Pulitzer clad arm through Morticia’s and tugged her over to the small bar in the corner of the room.

“We’ve met, but likewise,” Morticia said softly.

“You know, Morticia, we’ve been meaning to invite you to one of these,” Terri said, snapping at the bartender who quickly handed her a glass of white wine. “We are so happy you came tonight. Wine?”

Morticia blinked slowly, turning her attention to the bartender as she absorbed Terri’s rapid fire speech. “Do you have syrah?” 

The young man looked at her with confusion. “We have wine, ma’am.”

“A cabernet, then, please,” she said, not surprised they didn’t have or even know of that type of wine.

“We’re discussing a very good cause tonight,” Terri continued, putting her hand back on Morticia’s arm in an overly friendly gesture. “You came at just the right time.”

Morticia’s neutral expression melted into a frown. So Wednesday was right then, it would seem. Morticia was invited because of her bank account. She nodded curtly and sipped her wine. “I see.”

Terri’s eyes widened as they caught on Morticia’s necklace. “Good God, that necklace is astounding! And I thought my jewelry collection was impressive.” 

“Oh, this? It was a gift from my husband.”

“Anniversary?” 

“Oh no, just a random Tuesday,” Morticia said with a shrug.

Terri’s pink mouth dropped open. “Wow, could we swap husbands for a day?”

“No.”

Terri’s plastic looking smile fell a fraction. “Right, well, I need to go up to the podium to get ready. Why don’t you find a seat and get all settled for my presentation?”

Happy to be away from Terri, Morticia slipped through the other women and took a seat in the back row. She slid her phone out of her small bag and tried to discreetly send Gomez a text before whatever nonsense presentation this was started.

Morticia: Darling, Wednesday was right. I’m starting to think I was only invited so I’ll make a contribution toward whatever this is. I might be in for a night of mind numbing boredom. 

Not even a full minute later, her phone vibrated with a text from Gomez.

Gomez: i know what might entertain you ;)

Morticia stifled a laugh.

Morticia: There are far too many people around, all of whom seem to have nose problems.

Gomez: cocaine? 

Morticia: No… well, perhaps, but what I meant was that they’re all nosey. I would hate for one of them to look at my screen and see something for my eyes only.

Gomez: just as well pugsley is almost done with his project so i shouldn’t abandon him

Morticia: You’re such a good father. I must go, the head blondie has started tapping the microphone. 

Gomez: love you my dearest!!!!!!

Morticia: And I you.

She slid her phone away just as Terri began talking. Morticia, who normally prided herself on her listening abilities, was able to pay attention for all of five minutes before she zoned out. Terri was proposing that they build an entirely new cafeteria for the school since the inspector found traces of mold in the ceiling of the current one. That was where she lost Morticia. Why get rid of mold? Terri, however, seemed to have everyone else dangling from her every word.

“And that is why everyone’s donation is so very important,” Terri started to wrap up about twenty minutes later. “Please, dig deep into your hearts and your Gucci wallets.” That got a chorus of laughter for some reason. “And I know we can all come together to achieve this dream.” She then started clapping for herself, which urged everyone else to join in.

Morticia now firmly believed she should have allowed Gomez to talk her into staying home. This was a half hour of her life she would never get back. On the bright side, however, it put her a half hour closer to death. She stood, ready to make a stealthy getaway with her checkbook still intact, when Terri sidled up to her.

“So, Morticia, how much will you be contributing?” she asked with her cheery fake smile.

“Oh, well,” Morticia began, ruefully reaching for her purse. “Let me think. Is this construction to put more mold in the ceiling?”

Terri’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “No… it's to get the mold out of the ceiling.”

“But why?” Morticia pressed.

“Because it's unsafe. All of this was outlined in my presentation, Morticia.”

“Of course it was, I just want to be sure I have all the information.” She flipped open her checkbook, knowing she wasn’t getting out of this horrific country club without leaving a chunk of change behind. She wrote out a figure and handed it over.

Terri clutched the check in her pink tipped fingers, her eyes nearly falling out of their sockets. “Morticia!” she squealed, which alerted everyone else in the room. “This is so beyond generous!”

Morticia shrugged a dainty shoulder, glancing around at all the plastic faces grinning at her. “It was nothing, really.”

“Let's go get drinks to celebrate!” someone suggested.

“Weren’t we already drinking?” Morticia asked, noticing that not a single hand in the room was without a wine glass.

Terri waved a dismissive hand. “Drinking wine isn’t drinking. Come out with us, Morticia, it will be fun!”

Morticia severely doubted that. “Perhaps next time, I’ve kept my butler waiting outside long enough.”

“You have a butler?” someone asked. “I’m lucky if my husband let's me hire a maid once a month.”

“If your husband let's you?” Morticia asked, horrified by the prospect.

“Men,” Terri said with a roll of her eyes. “They always have to control everything. We just have to ask permission to appease them every now and again, right?”

Morticia never had to ask Gomez’s permission to do a single thing. Outside of a few roleplay scenarios, that is. Yet all these women were nodding along in agreement. No wonder they all wanted to keep the night going, no one wanted to go home.

“Yes, well, as I said I should get going.” Morticia began backing toward the door.   
“Enjoy your night out.”

She made her getaway before anyone could protest further. At first she was slightly offended that she had never been invited to one of these before, but now she felt relieved. Sure they were all nice enough, Morticia supposed, but this type of get together just wasn’t her cup of henbane. 

“How was it, Mrs. Addams?” Lurch asked once she was safely in the backseat. 

“Rather dull, to be honest, Lurch. I’m sorry I kept you waiting out here for so long.”

“I was watching the ducks,” Lurch grumbled. “They stole a sandwich from a golfer.” 

“Well it sounds like your night was far better than mine,” she sighed. “I am ready to go home.”


	3. Chapter 3

The moment Lurch opened the front door, Morticia could hear Gomez’s footsteps on the second floor, rushing to get to her. “Tiiiiiiiish!” he screamed as he flew down his stairs.

Before he could pull her into an embrace, she held her hands out to stop him, taking in his appearance. His normally slicked back hair was standing straight up and smoking slightly. There were random smudges of ash across his face, and every few seconds his right eye would twitch.

“My darling, what happened to you?” she asked, taking his face in her hands and getting a tiny shock in the process.

“I used Pugsley’s electric urinal,” he said with another twitch. “It's working perfectly aside from a few minor bugs we need to work out before tomorrow.”

Pugsley stuck his head over the banister. His hair was also sticking up and he too had smudges on his face. “Father, I think I fixed it! Come pee!”

“I’ll be right there, old man!” Gomez yelled back. “Lurch, you should try it!”

Lurch groaned in response and walked away.

“My darling, I want to hear all about your evening, but I must go help Pugsley,” he said, kissing her cheek, which sent a zap through her.

“Of course, come find me when you’re done.” 

She wandered into the living room and decided to finish the sweater she was working on for Cousin Sledge. Morticia had barely gotten a few loops done when she heard a noise in the doorway. She looked over to see Wednesday standing there, looking at her intently.

“Hello, darling,” Morticia said softly. “You were almost able to sneak up on me.” 

“Mother, will you paint my nails?” Wednesday asked, holding up a bottle of red polish. 

Morticia smiled and nodded. “Of course. Come sit.” She patted the purple velvet seat beside her. “Tell me, do you think Cousin Sledge will like this sweater?”

Wednesday squinted at the mass of black wool. “Does it have enough arms?”

Morticia flipped it around to reveal an extra sleeve on the back. “How could I forget?” She set the sweater beside the couch and turned slightly to face Wednesday. “How was your evening?” she asked as she started shaking the red polish. 

Wednesday shrugged. “It was funny to listen to Father and Pugsley working on the electric urinal.” 

“Yes, I’m sure it was.” She lifted Wednesday’s pale hand and began to paint. 

“And how was the meeting?” Wednesday eventually asked.

“You were very right, my dear,” Morticia sighed. “They wanted a donation. Did you know they want to get the mold out of the cafeteria?”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “Yes, I don’t understand it.”

“Neither do I. However, it never hurts to be charitable.”

“And were they… nice to you?” Wednesday mumbled, looking over at the fire instead of at her mother.

Morticia tilted her head to the side, studying Wednesday’s face. “Why ever would you ask that?”

Wednesday shrugged again. “I know what those moms are like is all. They’re all the same and they don’t like what's not the same.”

“Darling, since when do you care what other people think?” Morticia asked, stopping painting to really focus on the conversation.

“I don’t,” Wednesday said resolutely. “About me…”

“They were as nice as they seem able to be,” Morticia said slowly. “But my darling, I don’t want you to worry about me. I’m your mother, I’m supposed to worry about you.”

“I can take care of myself,” Wednesday quickly responded.

“So can I,” Morticia said with a wink. “Where do you think you get it from?” She resumed painting, thinking they would move on from the conversation.

Wednesday had other plans, however. “Do you think you’ll go again?”

“I don’t want to be rude. But to be honest I was so bored.” That got a soft laugh out of Wednesday. “And the amount of floral print those women wear. It was like they were trying to burn my retinas.” 

“Their daughters are the same way.”

“To each their own.” Morticia let out a long sigh, a certain thought weighing on her mind. “Can I tell you a secret?”

Wednesday nodded eagerly. “Please.”

“I feel sorry for those women,” Morticia admitted. 

“Why?”

“Their lives seem so fake. It seems as though they live to appease everyone around them while sacrificing what they actually enjoy. Every woman in that room was like a clone of the next. It has got to be so exhausting to live your life for everyone aside from yourself.”

“You’re right,” Wednesday said. “They’re sheep.”

“And they all seem to hate their husbands.” Morticia shook her head. “Which is a shame. Anyway, your nails are done, darling.” 

“Thanks, Mother.”

“Of course. Now go get ready for bed and I’ll be in to tuck you in.”

No sooner had Wednesday left than Gomez came sauntering in, still looking electrified. “If Pugsley doesn't get first place at the science fair, I may have to throw hands,” he said, planting another shocking kiss to Morticia’s cheek.

“I don’t know if Thing would enjoy that,” Morticia pointed out.

“No, querida, I meant fight,” he said with a laugh. “I missed you tonight, are you ready to come to bed?”

She narrowed her eyes as she stood and ran a finger down his chest. “Oui, mon amour.”

“Oh, Tish,” he groaned, reaching out for her.

She sidestepped him and sauntered toward the door. “I just have to tuck the children in first.” She cast a glance over her shoulder, enjoying the depraved look on his face. “Why don’t you go get comfortable?”

“Oh I definitely will!”


	4. Chapter 4

The room was completely dark when Morticia stepped in, catching her slightly off guard. She smirked, stepping into the darkness and locking the door behind her. “Gomez?” she said softly.

“Querida?” 

She spun slightly, his voice coming from somewhere behind her. So he was going to turn this into a game, then. Well Morticia loved games. “However am I going to find my way to the bed?”

There was a flash of movement a foot from her, rustling her hair slightly. Fingers ghosted across her shoulders, sending goosebumps across her flesh. “I think you could find it just fine, Tish,” he whispered, his lips against her ear for a fraction of a second.

“So I get no help then?” she asked, trying not to show her disappointment at the sudden lack of contact. 

In a flash, the zipper on the back of her dress was down and Gomez’s lips were on her back. Morticia gasped, which echoed through their silent bedroom. She could feel him smirking against her skin, his mustache tickling her. “What do you want help with, exactly?” he asked, his mouth trailing up toward her neck.

“For one,” she sighed, “my dress is only half off.”

Instantaneously he shoved her dress the rest of the way off her body. The cool air hit her body, adding to the myriad of sensations now attacking her. Gomez’s warm hands gripped her hips tightly, pulling her back against his body. His bare skin was searing hot, as always, which made Morticia shiver.

“Cara mia,” he hissed, his hands sliding up to cup her breasts. “You left me so very frustrated tonight.”

“I’m aware,” she said smugly, grinding herself back against him. 

Then suddenly he was gone. “Well then, perhaps it's time for a bit of payback.”

“Dirty pool,” she hissed. “As you would say.” 

Gomez chuckled somewhere in the darkness. “You love it.”

“Perhaps.” She took a hesitant step forward, trying to sense him somewhere in the dark. “How is it you’re seeing so well and I’m as blind as a bat?”

“Pure instinct, cara mia.” His hands slid across her back once more and she turned to try and trap him. Unfortunately, Gomez was a bit too swift. 

“Good, I was worried you had on Pugsley’s night vision goggles.”

“Huh, I hadn’t thought of that.” 

He was somewhere in front of her now and Morticia was growing increasingly impatient. She took a few silent steps forward, unaware that her foot was about to connect with something. She pitched forward, only to be caught instantly by Gomez.

“You tripped me!” she accused. “That's just mean.”

“I may have tripped you,” he said with a slight laugh. “But I also caught you.”

“Hmm, and you think that lets you off the hook?” she asked, righting herself in his arms. She looped her arms around his neck, unwilling to let him slip away again. Leaning forward, she nipped roughly at his shoulder, not feeling very merciful at the moment.

“Oh, Tish,” he groaned, his grip tightening on her waist. “You can never just let me have the upper hand, can you?”

“Of course I can,” she fired back. “Take it.” 

She was swept off her feet the second the words were out of her mouth. Her back hit the mattress and she was slightly astounded still by how well Gomez could maneuver in the pitch black. She was also pretty envious of it as well. “You asked for it,” he whispered against her neck.

“I did indeed.”

…

The next morning Gomez and Morticia were woken up to a sudden power surge, followed by a somewhat girly shriek coming from down stairs. Gomez yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “Nothing like a gentle wake up after a nightmare filled slumber.”

Morticia nodded silently, less enthusiastic about the early time. “There is still more time for nightmares, darling.” She reached out to pat his chest. “Why don’t you go back to sleep?”

“Cara mia, it's time to see the children off to school,” Gomez said with a chuckle. “And aren’t you curious about why the power surged?”

“Gomez, you know I am not a morning person,” she said as she begrudgingly sat up.

“Yes I know, my intoxicating night owl,” he said fondly as he leaned in to kiss her. “Now come along, curiosity killed the cat!”

“It's hard to argue with that.”

Walking down stairs, Morticia and Gomez found Uncle Fester laying in the foyer, twitching and also glowing like a night light. Wednesday and Pugsley were there as well, watching him twitch around in a circle with looks of glee on their faces.

“Fester, you look great!” Gomez exclaimed. 

“What happened?” Morticia asked.

“Uncle Fester used my urinal!” Pugsley exclaimed. 

“Uncle Fester, you know you’re electric,” Morticia admonished, shaking her head. 

“I didn’t know the urinal was!” Fester said as another volt ran through him. “Pugsley should have put a sign on it!”

“Where's the fun in that?” Pugsley asked.

“He’s got a point,” Gomez said, extending a hand to help Fester up and getting shocked in the process. 

“Pugsley, grab your project,” Morticia said, handing Wednesday her back pack. “I don’t want you to miss the bus.”

“One of these days there won’t be a bus,” Wednesday said ominously under her breath.

“It's wonderful to have aspirations,” Morticia said as she walked them to the door. 

“I think I’m going to go shower,” Fester said wearily, heading toward the stairs.

This prompted a loud, “no!” from both Morticia and Gomez.

“Why not?” Fester cried indignantly.

“We don’t want the power going out!” Gomez yelled back. “Mama needs the oven today for the beetle casserole she was going to make!”

Fester frowned, his shoulders slumping. “Fine, I’ll just work up that nice, cheesy funk today instead.”

“Oh is that what that is?” Morticia asked, walking back over to Gomez’s side. “I thought it was Lurch’s socks.”

“No, Lurch’s socks smell like anchovies,” Gomez said dismissively. “That cheese is 100% Fester.”

“Uncle Fester, just how long has it been since you’ve showered?” Morticia asked, her nose crinkling slightly. 

Fester’s brow scrunched up as he thought. He started counting on his fingers, his eyes darting back and forth. “When was Thing’s birthday?” 

“Three months ago.”

“Oh! It was then. Oh well, what's another day?” He shuffled up the stairs to do whatever it was Fester was going to do. 

“I would love to see whatever is growing under that coat of his,” Gomez whispered, intrigue in his eyes.

“Whatever it is… it's definitely yellow,” Morticia said.

“I was picturing green.”

“Perhaps a mix of both.” Morticia shrugged. “Either way, I now very much would like to shower.”

“Oh, allow me to assist with that, querida mia,” Gomez said with a wink.

“You always do.”


	5. Chapter 5

Several hours later, Morticia was tending to her plants while Gomez took care of some stock business up in his office, when the doorbell rang. Thinking nothing of it, she let Lurch get the door while she continued clipping the pesky blooms off her lovely thorns.

“A visitor,” Lurch grumbled, alerting her to the fact that it wasn’t just some random sales person at the door.

Morticia turned, finding Terri looking around with wide eyes. “Terri?” she asked. “What a surprise.”

“I wanted to come give you the good news in person,” Terri said, skittering away from Lurch as fast as she could.

“Why don’t you have a seat?” Morticia gestured to one of the metal chairs next to a pot of poison oak. “Do you want some tea?”

“Oh, tea actually sounds lovely,” Terri said, holding her purse to her chest as she sunk down into the chair. 

“Thank you, Lurch,” she said as he turned to walk away. “Now, what's the good news?” Morticia asked, taking a seat beside her.

“Well… we were talking over drinks last night, after you left, and we decided that your house would be perfect for our next PTA dinner!” Terri squealed. “That is… we decided before any of us actually saw it…” she added less enthusiastically. 

“Well, I’d be happy to host,” Morticia said slowly, not really loving the fact that she wasn’t consulted about this decision beforehand. “The only thing is, I’ve never done it before.”

“Oh, I would help you, no worries,” Terri said dismissively. “Especially in the decoration area.”

Lurch walked in with a tray and poured them steaming, bubbling, cups of tea. “Thank you, Lurch.”

“Is it supposed to be steaming like this?” Terri asked, holding out the cup like it was going to bite her.

“Of course,” Morticia said, taking a sip. “What else is it supposed to do?”

“Anyway, what do you say? Can we have the party here?” Terri asked, seeming like she was unsure of the prospect now.

“Of course, a fête is always fun,” Morticia said with a shrug.

No sooner were the words out of her mouth than Gomez came crashing into the conservatory. “Tish, you spoke French!” He latched onto her arm and began kissing his way up to her shoulder.

“Darling, we have company,” Morticia said, patting his cheek.

He lifted his head for a second to say, “we’re married.” 

“My, so this is the man who gives you jewels for no reason,” Terri said. “Isn’t he the lady killer.”

“For the last time, I was acquitted!” Gomez said, finally disentangling himself from Morticia’s arm. He stuck his hand out to Terri, ever the gentleman. “Gomez Addams.” 

“Terri Shannon.”

“That's right, the hairspray.”

“Darling, Terri has just informed me that she would like to use our house for a PTA dinner,” Morticia said, standing so Gomez could sit and then promptly sat back on his lap, which had Terri in utter shock.

“PTA?” Gomez asked, slightly bewildered. “Do you mean pain, torture and arson?”

Terri spit out her tea, half out of shock and half because she wasn’t expecting the strong flavor of henbane. “Excuse me?”

“No darling, that's for later,” Morticia said suggestively. “She means the parent/teacher association.”

“Oh, that,” he said with a shrug. “Sounds great. We’ve been looking for a reason to break out those bone goblets you bought at that auction, Tish.”

“Oh, I almost forgot all about those.” She smiled, stroking his cheek. “Your memory is astounding, darling.”

“Um,” Terri said awkwardly. “I’m sure the caterers will bring their own glassware.”

“Caterers? No need, Mama loves cooking,” Morticia said with a wave of her hand.

“And with Mama it's about quantity,” Gomez added.

Terri looked at him expectantly. “As well as quality?” 

“No,” Gomez said happily. “Anyway, what were you thinking as far as entertainment? I’ve got a cousin who can play a mean skin flute.”

“Gomez,” Morticia hissed. “That is not an instrument.”

“Dear Lord,” Terri hissed under her breath.

“What is it then?” he asked.

“I will tell you later. As for now, would you like to see the ballroom?”

“You have a ballroom?” Terri asked, some of the horror leaving her eyes as the thrall of their money took over.

“Of course, it's right beside the bowling alley.” Morticia stood, smoothing out her dress. “Shall we?”

“By all means!” Terri said excitedly. “You know, if I told my husband about all the things you all have in your home, he might budge on me getting a sauna.”

“He does not just get you a sauna?” Gomez asked, wrapping his arm around Morticia’s waist. 

“Ha, you’re funny,” Terri said flatly. “No, he would rather buy a new playstation for him and his buddies.”

Gomez and Morticia shared a look of disgust. “Well, if you’d like, you could use our sauna,” Morticia offered. “It reaches 450℉.”

“That seems a bit excessive.” 

“Well, we opted for that over it reaching below freezing as well,” Gomez explained. “That didn’t make Fester very happy.”

“You can’t please everyone,” Morticia said simply. “The ballroom is just through here.” She opened the doors to the grand room, which was currently filled with sheet covered furniture. “Of course this can all be moved, though I do think it adds a little something extra, don’t you?”

“But… where would the people go?” Terri asked cautiously, running her finger across a very dusty end table.

“Fair point. We can have Lurch and Uncle Fester clear this out. When were you planning on having this soiree?”

“Tish!” Gomez yelled, bounding across the room to kiss her arm. “That French! It runs right through me!”

“Later, darling,” Morticia said softly. “Later.” 

He lifted his head, looking somewhat disappointed. “Very well, but I’m holding you to it.”

“You’re a treasure, Gomez,” Terri said with a shake of her head. “Where do you find men like this?”

Morticia shrugged. “It has to be damp.”

“I’m lucky if I get a hello from my husband when I come home,” Terri said with a roll of her eyes. “But he’s great, he is.”

Morticia and Gomez shared a look. She only added that last part out of guilt and nothing more, they both knew it. “If I were you, I would demand a hello!” Gomez exclaimed, clapping his hands. “Make him see that you are the priority!”

Terri laughed. “Ah, he has a sense of humor too. Anyway, enough about me. The party is scheduled for a week from now so I was thinking maybe I would come back in a few days and we can hammer out some more details then.”

“That sounds wonderful, we have an extensive hammer collection,” Morticia said with a hint of excitement. 

“Right… well, I should get going. I have a nail appointment that I don’t want to be late for.”

“I’ll walk you to the door,” Morticia said, “it's easy to get lost.”

“And I think the children put in another surprise trap door,” Gomez added, holding the door for them. “If you end up underground, it's best if you know the way out.”

Terri’s eyes were wide with shock. “Yeah, it's best if you show me the way out.”

“What an odd woman,” Gomez quietly observed once Terri was in her car and driving away. 

“Odd but harmless,” Morticia said with a shrug, turning to walk back inside. “She's the type of woman who needs a project at all times.”

“What gives you that impression?” Gomez asked, following her through the door. 

“Just a sense, really,” Morticia said thoughtfully. “She always must be in control of something, because in her home life she doesn’t have control of anything.” She turned to wrap her arms around Gomez’s neck. “You hear how she talks about her husband. He must be dreadful.” 

Gomez nodded. “You really hit the jackpot with me.” He grinned wildly, bouncing his eyebrows up and down.

Morticia smirked. “No one doubts that.”

“I only jest, querida mia. I’m the lucky one.” He leaned down to kiss her. “Now, you said later several times today. It is later.”

Coyly, she pulled his pocket watch out and flicked it open. “Well, would you look at that? It is, in fact, later.” She snapped the watch shut. “Should we stay here or go upstairs?”

“You know I don’t have the patience for the amount of stairs in this house!” Gomez cried as he pulled Morticia tightly against him. “And as you can feel, my patience has run out.”

He kissed her deeply and wasted no time getting them both into a disheveled mess on the floor in the middle of the foyer. Though, as things were beginning to reach their boiling point, Lurch picked that moment to mistakenly walk past. He grumbled and tried to slip away, but Lurch was not a stealthy man.

“Lurch, old man!” Gomez cried. “I do apologize, we didn’t quite make it upstairs. What did you need?”

“A lobotomy,” Lurch groaned. 

“Uncle Fester might have a groupon for that!”

“Gomez,” Morticia said between a laugh and a sigh. “Perhaps you should get off of me and we will finish later.”

“I’m leaving,” Lurch insisted.

Morticia frowned, watching from upside down as Lurch walked away. “I’m afraid we embarrassed the poor dear.”

“A man like Lurch? Nonsense! This is a typical week night for him!”

“But darling, have we ever even seen him with someone?”

“Thing?” 

“Someone with a body, dear.”

“Oh… no. But I’m sure it happens, right? Either way, I would prefer not to keep talking about Lurch at the moment. I’m kind of losing some steam.”

Morticia smirked. “You? Lose steam? Never.”


	6. Chapter 6

The second Wednesday set foot in the house, she knew something was off. The air just wasn’t right. It wasn’t as nice and musty as it usually was, there was something else lingering there… something sinister. She stopped short in the foyer, glancing around suspiciously.

“What's wrong?” Pugsley chugged as he ran into the house. “You didn’t try to lock me out.” 

“Something evil was here,” Wednesday said ominously, making a beeline for the living room.

“Grandmama?” Pugsley asked as he followed her.

In the living room, Morticia and Gomez were sitting side by side, working on balling up some black yarn. It didn’t appear that anything was wrong, on the surface at least. Morticia looked up as they walked in and smiled softly.

“Ah, my darlings, how was school?” she asked.

“Why does it smell in here?” Wednesday asked.

Gomez shrugged. “That's just Uncle Fester.”

“No, it isn’t a cheesy smell,” Pugsley said as he plopped down on the floor.

“It's a… Karen sort of smell,” Wednesday said, still looking around the room like some entity was lurking. 

Morticia and Gomez shared a look of surprise. “Terri Shannon came over today. How could you possibly have smelled her, it's been hours?”

“You know Wednesday has superior senses,” Gomez said, shaking off the yarn wound around his hands. “That and Terri wore an absurd amount of perfume.”

“Why was she here?” Wednesday pressed, not liking the implications of what her parents were saying.

“Terri decided that our house would be used for one of their PTA parties this month,” Morticia said with a shrug. “She came over to tell us that news.”

Wednesday shrunk back in disgust. All those parents and teachers in her house? Invading her inner sanctum? Wednesday was horrified, but her mother was acting as if it was no big deal to invite all these people in! She knew her mother was charitable, almost to a fault, but this was going too far.

“I think Wednesday stopped breathing,” Pugsley said. 

Morticia’s shapely eyebrows pulled together in concern. “Darling, what's wrong?”

“Did you tell her no?” Wednesday eventually asked.

“Lurch is cleaning out the ballroom as we speak,” Gomez said with a shrug. “Even though PTA doesn’t stand for pain, torture and arson like I initially thought.”

Pugsley frowned. “Since when?”

“Are you at least going to dump pig's blood on everyone at the end of the night?” Wednesday asked, growing more desperate by the second. Her parents have lost their minds, that was clear. She needed to figure out a nursing home situation for them immediately. 

“No, that would be too much for poor Lurch to clean up,” Morticia said dismissively. “That and pig’s blood just isn’t as high quality as it used to be. Not like when I was in high school…” 

“But why?” Wednesday pressed, becoming visibly upset, which threw her parents completely for a loop. 

Morticia stood and walked over to her, taking her face in her hands. “My darling, what's wrong? You’re getting a bit of color in your face, I’m concerned.” 

“I’m fine,” Wednesday insisted, stepping away. “I’m going to go do my homework.”

“School work?” Gomez gasped, rushing up to Morticia’s side. “Querida mia, I think she is sick.”

“I’m not sick,” Wednesday insisted. “I’m just tired of my teacher speaking to me, so I’d like to avoid that happening by doing my homework.”

She stalked out of the room, leaving everyone watching in confusion. “I like my teacher,” Pugsley said, unknowingly dispersing the tension. “She has beady eyes and always smells like tuna fish.”

“She sounds lovely,” Gomez said as he walked back over to the couch. 

Morticia was barely paying attention. She was far too concerned about whatever was up with Wednesday. But Wednesday would talk on her own terms, Morticia knew that much. And perhaps she was just being over protective, as was her nature. With a sigh, she turned away and sat beside her husband, hoping this dilemma wasn’t going to eat away at her for the rest of the day. 

…

Finding it rather peculiar that Wednesday hadn’t left her room since she came home, Morticia decided to check on her before dinner was ready. Perhaps something one on one was what Wednesday needed to open up about what was really wrong. Morticia paused outside of her closed door, listening for any sign of anything on the other side, but it was as silent as a tomb.

“Wednesday?” she called quietly, rapping her knuckles against the door. “May I come in?”

“Sure,” Wednesday said flatly. “Watch out for the trap.”

Even though she stepped inside with the utmost of caution, Morticia’s foot nearly got snagged in the very well placed rope trap Wednesday had set up in front of the door. Morticia smiled proudly as she pushed the door shut behind her. “And who is that for?”

“Pugsley keeps sneaking in and leaving fire ants in my bed,” Wednesday said casually. She was sitting on her bed with her doll, Marie Antionette, but she didn’t seem to be doing much of anything with it.

Morticia cautiously took a seat at the foot of her bed, not wanting to bombard Wednesday with questions but also desperately seeking answers. “You know, your Aunt Ophelia used to sneak in and leave flower petals in my bed.”

Wednesday’s nose crinkled in disgust. “That's barbaric.” 

“Indeed it was.”

“You and Aunt Ophelia are so different,” Wednesday said quietly, looking down at her headless doll.

“That is the understatement of the century,” Morticia laughed. “We were nothing like you and Pugsley. I still love her, though.”

“Even though she tried to steal Father?”

Morticia’s lips twitched into a ghost of a frown. “Technically I stole your father from her, but that is a story for another time, my dear.”

“You could tell it now instead of getting to why you really came into my room,” Wednesday said, her attention once again focused solely on her doll. 

“You will hear that story when I can figure out how to make it child appropriate.” 

“Ew.” 

“Wednesday, won’t you please tell me what's bothering you?” Morticia asked, lifting up her chin so she was forced to look at her. “It's just us in here now, and I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”

“But you tell Father everything.”

“That's true, but he is your father and he worries about you just as much as I do.” Morticia sighed and folded her hands back in her lap. “I’m not going to force you to tell me, however. But you do know I would never judge you for anything, right?”

“What if I wore yellow?” Wednesday asked, still avoiding the subject.

“I don’t have to worry because I know no daughter of mine would ever be caught dead in yellow.” That, at least, got a tiny smile out of Wednesday. “But even if you did suffer a lapse of judgement like that, I would simply… deal with it. Even if it was for a silly reason like impressing a boyfriend's parents.”

“I just… I don’t want all those parents in our house,” Wednesday finally admitted, ignoring the absurd boyfriend statement her mother just made. 

Good, they were getting somewhere. “And why not? We Addams love a good party.”

“Because what if they WASP it all up?”

“Darling, we have our own wasps.”

“No, what I mean is, what if they make it so our house is just like everywhere else?” Wednesday insisted. “I don’t want them coming in and changing things.”

“Wednesday, it's only one room and it's only one night. If you would like I could have Uncle Fester take you and your brother out to do something fun, so you won’t even have to be here.”

“But you’re going to be spending a lot of time with Mrs. Shannon.”

Morticia nodded silently, not fully grasping what had Wednesday quite so upset. “Yes, I am. Is that what has you so bothered?”

Wednesday gave a noncommittal shrug. “I don’t want you to become one of them.”

Morticia almost laughed. “Wednesday, darling.” She reached over and took her hand. “Number one, I love your father far too much to ever be considered ‘one of them.’ Why ever would you think that?”

“I don’t know, I know you aren’t a sheep. I just like our family the way it is and it seems like overnight you’ve been pulled into Mrs. Shannon’s Karen clan.”

“You went from being concerned if they were even nice to me to worrying that I would become like them,” Morticia said with a slight hint of amusement. “If I didn’t know any better I would say my daughter is highly empathetic.” 

“Disgusting.” 

“Don’t worry, the fact that you aren’t completely emotionless will stay between us,” Morticia said with a wink. “I don’t even have to tell your father.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “I’m not being mushy.”

“No, I know,” Morticia said, if only to appease her. “But my darling, worried or not, it is unnecessary. Could you picture me in a blue and pink floral print caftan?” 

“Only in my worst nightmares.” 

“Exactly. I will remain me, while also helping these women with their party. I can do both, have a little faith in your mother,” she teased, squeezing Wednesday’s hand. “Do you feel a little better now?”

Wednesday glared at her. “I was never not okay.”

Morticia smirked and pulled her into a hug. “Of course, whatever you say. Now, do you want to come down to dinner? Mama made beetle casserole.” 

“Can I have the burnt part?” she asked hopefully.

“Of course.”


	7. Chapter 7

“I’m assuming you solved Wednesday’s dilemma from earlier,” Gomez said as the two were locked in a silent dance. Everyone had gone to bed, leaving Gomez and Morticia alone in the study, a steady stream of moonlight flowing in to create a very romantic atmosphere. “She seemed to be back to her normal, gloomy self.”

“You won’t believe what had her so upset,” Morticia said, resting her head on Gomez’s shoulder. “She was worried I was going to become like Terri Shannon and her minions.” 

“Nonsense, you love me too much,” Gomez said as he spun them around.

“That's what I said,” Morticia laughed. “I was just so surprised she would be worried about that in the first place.” 

Gomez shrugged. “I don’t know, it is a horrifying prospect for a child.”

“But shouldn’t Wednesday already know that that just isn’t me?” Morticia asked, lifting her head to look up at him. 

Her eyebrows were creased with concern, which had Gomez instantly worried. He stopped moving, lifting his hands to cup her face. “Cara mia, I wouldn’t take it personally.”

“I’m not.”

Gomez narrowed his dark eyes at her. “You are and you shouldn’t. If anything, feel happy that Wednesday loves you enough to even be concerned about this.” 

Morticia frowned as she absentmindedly toyed with Gomez’s tie. “I suppose you’re right. And Terri does have a habit of inserting herself with little warning. No wonder it was jarring for Wednesday.” 

Gomez inclined his head so their foreheads were pressed together. “You’re a wonderful mother, Tish.”

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I couldn’t do it without you.”

“I love you, cara mia.”

“I love you, mon cher.” She pushed up on her toes to kiss him. “You did a wonderful job helping Pugsley with his science fair project, while we’re on the topic. It isn’t fair that they disqualified him.” 

Gomez’s face scrunched into a scowl. “I’m going down to that school tomorrow to set a few things straight.”

“My darling, while I admire your willingness to defend your son, I think we need to pick our battles.”

He raised a thick eyebrow. “Maybe I need you to convince me. I’m feeling rather rambunctious.” 

“Rambunctious?” She smiled, kissing him softly once again. “Are things going to get broken if I try to convince you?” 

“Depends on if you tie me up or not… race you to the dungeon?”

“Darling, I never win races,” Morticia fake pouted. “You’re much too fast.” 

Gomez grinned as he took Morticia by surprise, wrapping his arms around her legs and throwing her over his shoulder. “We’ll call this a tie!” he declared as he headed toward the secret passage to the dungeon. He gave her ass a firm slap before taking off at full speed. “And we can break that tie down stairs!” 

… 

“I just don’t know if it… fits the theme,” Terri said with a grimace, looking at the shiny new guillotine Lurch and Fester just wheeled into the ball room.

“Doesn’t fit the theme?” Fester barked indignantly. “Since when does a guillotine not fit in with a party? Haven’t you ever been to France?”

“Uncle Fester,” Morticia said in a warning tone. 

Terri and her friend, appropriately named Sherri, had stopped by with no notice only a few moments ago to try to get the ball room party ready. This meant that Fester had no warning time to sneak out of the house and was rather cranky about getting roped into helping. He shot Morticia a look, which she returned with a withering glare. 

“All I was saying, Fester, is that if this was a Halloween party, then by all means,” Terri said in a somewhat haughty tone. “But this is a PTA dinner, so things need to be a bit more subdued.” 

“Lurch, Fester, you heard the woman,” Morticia said when neither man seemed like they wanted to budge. “I think it would look lovely in the playroom anyway.”

“I don’t see Gomez helping with this!” Fester shot back.

Morticia sighed pensively. “Gomez went to the store so Lurch could be here to help with this. Don’t you remember? We asked you if you would like to go and you said ‘no, I’m shy,’ which we all know isn’t true.”

“Yes it is!” he cried. “I haven’t said two words to these chicks!”

“Fester, you just berated Terri for her opinion on the guillotine.” 

Terri and Sherri shared an apprehensive look as Fester turned in their direction. “Oh yeah… howdy!”

“The playroom please, Uncle Fester,” Morticia said in a tone that meant her word was final. 

The two men finally left, all the while Fester was muttering to himself in a not so subtle way.

“You certainly have a… unique family,” Sherri observed. 

Sherri was nearly identical to Terri with her over teased blonde hair and bold printed shirts that cost way more than they look. Sherri was terribly jumpy, Morticia was beginning to notice. Any little sound had her looking over her shoulder as if something was going to jump out and grab her. Morticia wanted to tell her that they weren’t lucky enough to have any ghosts that would grab you, but she didn’t want to give these women any reason to look down on her house. 

“Thank you,” Morticia said as she pulled a sheet off a long buffet table. 

“Is Lurch related to you?” Terri asked.

Morticia shook her head. “He’s our butler, but we do consider him one of the family.” 

“Oh, he’s the butler,” Sherri said in a somewhat scandalized tone. “I can understand that.”

“Sherri, you’re so bad,” Terri admonished. “We’re here to work, not play.” 

Morticia was somewhat confused by whatever they were implying, but decided to move on. “I spoke with Mama about the menu, do we all like how toad confi sounds? And for dessert she was going to make some of her famous spider leg cookies.”

“Um… what about the appetizer?” Terri asked.

“Mama is torn between snail fritters or larva on crackers.”

“Is that up for debate?” Sherri asked, her face turning slightly green. 

“She is always open for suggestions,” Morticia said with a shrug. “Just as long as you don’t mention anything Martha Stewart has ever done. Mama has a deep, deep hatred for Martha Stewart.” 

They both looked horrified about the fact that anyone could hate Martha Stewart. “Sherri, why don’t you come up with some suggestions that Morticia can run by… Mama.”

“Oh, um, okay,” Sherri said with a frown. “You know what? I think we’ve done enough work today.”

“But we’ve barely started,” Morticia said, looking around the half emptied ballroom. 

“Sherri is right!” Terri declared, taking a seat in one of the dusty chairs. “I’m thinking it's mimosa time. Morticia, do you have champagne?” 

“And fresh squeezed juice?” 

“I’m sure Gomez has an old bottle of champagne down in the cellar,” Morticia said thoughtfully. “As for juice we have some onion juice, but I don’t know if it was freshly squeezed.”

“Just champagne, then,” they both said at the same time.

“I’ll just go get it then.” Morticia walked out of the ballroom shaking her head. Terri and Sherri’s work ethic was severely lacking. That being said, Morticia could clearly see that these women just wanted any excuse to be out of the house, so who was she to turn them away? 

“Are they gone yet?” Fester hissed, startling Morticia slightly as she opened the cellar door.

“No and now they’ve requested alcohol,” Morticia said with a bemused smile. “You and Lurch are welcome to join us, if you can behave.” 

Fester frowned as he looked at the hourglass he used as a watch. “But it's not even noon. Oh! Are they drunkards?”

“Fester,” Morticia sighed. “Maybe. But we aren’t here to judge.”

“I am!”

“Just help me find a bottle of champagne, Uncle Fester, while being as least judgmental as possible.” 

“No can do, Morticia,” Fester said indignantly as he followed her down the creaky stairs. “I don’t like their vibes.”

“Their vibes?”

“Yeah, their yacht club vibes,” Fester said, yanking on the light string to illuminate the extensive yet dusty wine cellar. “With their strange helmets.”

“Helmets?” Morticia asked as she selected a random bottle from the closest shelf. “That's their hair!”

Fester’s brows shot up in disbelief. “It's so hard! I want to break a brick over their heads!”

“Out of the question,” Morticia said sternly. “Now, will you and Lurch be joining us?” 

“No thanks, that's a hard pass.”

Morticia laughed softly. “Then could you at least do me a favor?”

“Scratch that mole?” 

“No- what mole?”

“Oh… that's me…”

Morticia stopped at the top of the stairs and put her hand on his shoulder. “Uncle Fester, I am saying this with nothing but love. Do you need a Ritalin prescription? Or anti fungal cream?” 

“Why would I want anti fungal cream?”

“Could you just please tell Gomez where I am when he comes home?” she asked, patting his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“Okey dokey! That's assuming he doesn’t sniff you out like a bloodhound first.”

Morticia nodded in consideration. “That's true.” 

Walking back up to the ballroom, Morticia found Terri and Sherri locked in what seemed to be a rather intense conversation of the most likely scandalous variety. “Oh, Morticia!” Terri gasped once she noticed her in the room. “Sherri and I were just talking about how absolutely adorable you are.”

“Excuse me?” Morticia said flatly. Much like her daughter, Morticia didn’t exactly want to be seen as ‘adorable’ in any way. Striking? Yes. Sensual? Yes. Slightly terrifying and unearthly? Also yes. However, she was able to see that Terri was attempting to compliment her in her own, very strange way, so Morticia resisted from snapping at her over it.

“You know, with how you’re so, oh what's the word?” 

“Different?” Sherri suggested.

“Unique,” Terri said, casting a warning glance toward her friend. “And you just own it! It's so cute, you’re like a little martian, but in the best way possible.”

Feeling somewhat confused by Terri’s conflicting view of her, Morticia opted to stay silent as she poured them champagne. She nodded slightly to show that she wasn’t just outright ignoring them, but she was truly at a loss for words.

“Oh my God, and you just casually break out $1,000 champagne in the middle of the day!” Sherri gasped in shock, shooting out of her seat to look at the bottle. “No, I’m sorry, $5,000 champagne.”

“Oh, I didn’t even realize that I grabbed the cheap bottle, I do apologize,” Morticia said ruefully. “I just picked one randomly.” 

“See, this is what I mean,” Terri said as they all took a seat once again. “I don’t know a single person who wouldn’t constantly be flaunting this amount of wealth, but you’re so casual about expensive champagne. And don’t think I didn’t notice the red soles of your shoes, either.”

“Oh, yes,” Morticia said fondly. “I like that it always looks like I’ve stepped in blood.”

“What does your husband do?” Sherri asked as she nearly finished her entire glass in one gulp. 

“Many things,” Morticia said with a shrug. “He likes to swallow swords and play with his train set, oh, and he loves doing his zen yogi.”

“Um… I meant for work.”

“Oh, work. Well, technically he’s a lawyer, but he is also very into the stock market. However, both of those are more of a hobby for him than anything really. He likes to be home.”

Sherri shook her head in amazement. “It's like you made him in a lab.”

Morticia smirked. “Wouldn’t that have been something… but no, he was just born the usual way. During a hurricane.”

“God, Morticia, the way you talk about your husband makes me feel bad,” Terri said, slumping in her chair. “If I talk about Chad, it's to complain or to brag.”

“Oh, same, and I never even mean what I’m bragging about,” Sherri added. “It's like he needs a trophy for doing the simplest things, it's infuriating. Brad is always like, oh, look at me, I’m the best, I picked up my cocktail glass from where I left it the night before.”

“But he only puts it in the sink, right?” Terri asked. “He won’t even wash it?”

“Oh, God forbid he get his Rolex wet.”

Morticia felt like she was observing some strange, unusual culture. It was like they spoke in their own language. And they thought Morticia was the martian. She frowned slightly as she took a sip of her champagne. Did they expect her to join in with their husband bashing? 

“Gomez has to do something like that, the man can’t be completely perfect,” Terri said in a seemingly goading sense. 

“Um… well…” Morticia really had to think. To her, Gomez was perfect. There was no way she could justify sitting here and bad mouthing him. But Terri and Sherri were looking at her expectantly. “Sometimes he’ll come to bed with soot on his face… then it gets on me and it's not always the easiest to wash off.” 

“Oh, that's not an actual problem,” Sherri scoffed.

“I honestly have nothing bad to say about my husband,” Morticia said simply. “Gomez is wonderful.”

“Ugh, she's so lucky,” Terri said with an eye roll. “I honestly thought only Disney Princesses were happy in their relationships.”

Morticia’s lip curled in revulsion. “I can assure you a Disney Princess I am not.” 

“I don’t know, you do sort of look like Snow White,” Terri said thoughtfully. “Ruby lips, pale skin, black hair.” 

“Yes, but I don’t come with little song birds. Though there are several little people on my husband’s side…” 

“Ohh, I wonder what you would look like blonde,” Sherri said, her eyes widening with intrigue. “You are the only non blonde in our parent group.”

Clearly they meant well, but Morticia was completely perturbed by their train of thought. And she was positive that if all the hair dye was taken away, she wouldn’t be the only brunette in the bunch. “My sister is blonde,” Morticia eventually said, pulling out her phone. “And we do look alike, in the face that is. Everywhere else we couldn’t be more different.” She pulled up a picture of Ophelia and handed her phone over.

“Wow, this is almost freaky,” Sherri said, squinting at the phone screen. “Are you twins?”

“No,” Morticia said emphatically. “She’s a year older than me.

“I love that flower crown,” Terri added. “Did she get it on Etsy?” 

“Oh no, they grow out of her head.” She shrugged casually. “Now you don’t have to wonder what I would look like as a blonde.”

“Have you ever thought about dying it?” Sherri continued, getting up to toy with Morticia’s hair. “I have a great colorist.”

“No, no,” Morticia said rather quickly. “I like my hair how it is.”

“God, I’d kill for that confidence,” Terri sighed, pouring herself another glass. “Speaking of, and you can tell us we totally will keep your secret, have you had work done?”

Morticia looked between them, trying to figure out what they meant. “You mean on the house?”

“No, silly,” Terri laughed. “On your face! Or, you know, boobs, because they are rather perky.”

Morticia’s eyes bulged in shock. “I… no.” She was trying very hard not to gape at them like a fish. It wasn’t like Morticia had many girl friends, so she didn’t know what an average conversation topic was, but she had a feeling this wasn’t it. “No, I’ve never… no.” 

“Oh my God I don’t believe you,” Sherri whined. “You look so young!”

It would be a lie to say that Morticia wasn’t slightly vain. She did take a lot of pride in her appearance, which included an extensive and slightly occult skincare routine, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to just give up her secrets like that. “Exfoliation goes a long way,” is what she said instead. 

“It's amazing your kids don’t run you completely ragged like mine do,” Terri sighed. “By the end of the day I’m too exhausted to even take my makeup off. That's why I go to the spa for a facial at least once a week. Magda works wonders on my pores.” 

“Oh, I love her,” Sherri agreed. “By the time I’m done screaming at Tad to just be a decent human being and not a horrible brat I could swear I’ve busted three capillaries in my skin. Do you know that the other night I walked in on him masturbating and he had the never to tell me to fuck off? I was so appalled.” 

Mortica put her hand to her chest in shock. If Pugsley ever spoke to her that way she was sure she would actually drop over from shock. “What did you do?” Morticia asked.

Sherri rolled her eyes. “I took away his xbox for the night. And let me tell you, the screaming that ensued, I don’t know how I didn’t go deaf.” 

“I can top that,” Terri said with a strange smugness. “Kelsey called me a loathsome bitch because I wouldn’t let her wear booty shorts to the mall, so I said she couldn’t go at all, so she spat in my face.” 

Morticia was shocked. “If I would have said either of those things to my mother I would not have had food for a week. Granted, my mother was a bit of a sadist.” 

“It's a wonder we go home at all,” Terri mumbled. 

Thankfully the unmistakable sound of Gomez rushing up the stairs saved Morticia from the awkwardness of the rest of the conversation. The doors to the ballroom slammed open and Gomez slid in, his shoes squeaking across the floor.

“Tish!!!!” he yelled, completely oblivious to the other two. He leaned down and kissed his wife. “I missed you!”

“I missed you as well,” Morticia said with a smile, stroking his cheek. “Thank you for going to the store.”

“Happy to help,” he said with a shrug. “Do you know that there are rides at the supermarket?”

“Rides?”

“Yes! For only a penny I was able to ride on an animatronic horse!” Gomez said with glee. “Until they kicked me out, that is. The skinny, acne riddled young man was afraid I would break it.” He turned his head and finally noticed Terri and Sherri. “Oh, hello! How is the party planning?”

“We were taking a bit of a gossip break,” Terri said, looking at Gomez with something akin to awe. “But maybe Sherri and I should get out of your hair for the day.” 

Gomez did a bit of a double take. “Great scott! You multiplied!” 

“I’m Sherri, we haven't been introduced,” she said, extending her hand. “It's nice to finally meet the man behind the myth.”

“I like the sound of that,” Gomez said, turning to look at his wife. “Tish? Care to explain?” 

“It's nothing, my darling,” she said, standing to wind her arm through his. “Why don’t we walk our guests to the door?” 

Terri and Sherri left and Morticia was somewhat confident that they were sober enough to drive. She let out a tired sigh and backed away from the door. What kind of friends had she unwittingly made?


	8. Chapter 8

“You seem preoccupied, my dearest,” Gomez observed that night as Morticia was pacing back and forth in their room. He was sitting at her vanity, using a hairbrush to smooth out his mustache as he watched his wife in the mirror. “Is it about the dinner?”

“In a way,” Morticia sighed. “It's more so about Terri and Sherri.”

Gomez laughed. “It's funny how their names rhyme.”

“You want to know something even funnier? Their husbands' names are Chad and Brad.”

Gomez let out a loud laugh. “You are making that up.”

“I swear on my mother’s grave.”

There was a beat of silence. “Your mother is still alive, querida.” 

“Yes,” Morticia said slowly. “Don’t remind me.” 

“Anyway,” Gomez said, going back to brushing his mustache. “You were saying?”

“Right. I just, I don’t know. I suppose I pity Terri and Sherri.” Morticia stopped pacing and crossed her arms, staring thoughtfully off into space. “They seem so miserable.” 

“Really?” I think they seem obnoxiously happy and could stand to take it down a notch. Though I did like being referred to as the man behind the myth… that had a nice ring to it.”

“And do you want to know why they referred to you that way?” Morticia asked. “It's because they can’t believe anything you do around here. They were astounded that you would go to the supermarket. And they thought it was so peculiar when I didn’t have a single negative thing to say about you. Yet they were struggling to come up with a single positive thing about their husbands. I don’t understand why you would marry someone you can’t even stand in the first place!”

Gomez shrugged. “Some people enjoy being miserable.”

“Oh, and it isn’t just their husbands,” Morticia said, walking over to sit on the sofa in front of the fireplace. Gomez instantly jumped up to join her. “Sherri walked in on her son… you know…”

“Playing checkers?”

“What was your favorite hobby as a boy?”

Gomez’s eyes went wide. “Oh.”

“Yes. And instead of being embarrassed about it, he told her to fuck off.”

Gomez laughed, as Morticia assumed he would. “Oh boy, if Pugsley ever said that to you! I’d miss him.”

Morticia laughed softly. “It's as if they think I’m the odd one because my husband loves me and my children don’t spit on me. Is this how most people live?” 

Gomez reached for her hand, sympathetically kissing the back of it. “Let us just consider ourselves lucky that we have each other.”

“I’d like to help them, somehow,” Morticia continued, now totally distracted. “But what could I even do?”

“Hire them a divorce lawyer?” Gomez suggested.

She smirked and turned to face him, tucking her legs under her. “That is a rather amusing idea, but it's rather drastic. I don’t know, maybe I’ll dream something up.” 

Gomez leaned in, his lips landing on her silk covered shoulder. “I’d prefer if your dreams were preoccupied by something else.”

“Oh?” Morticia said softly, her hand tracing along his thigh. “And what might that be?”

“Querida,” he purred, lifting his head, eyes dark with desire. “Why dream of these… what did Wednesday call them? Karens?” 

Morticia nodded as Gomez caged her in with his arms. “Yes, Gomez.” 

“Wouldn’t you rather dream of…” he trailed off as he kissed her. “All the nasty things I plan on doing to you?” 

Morticia narrowed her eyes as she slid her hands down his chest. “I can’t control my subconscious, my dearest.” She pushed his smoking jacket off his shoulders. “If I could, however…”

“Yes?” 

“Well, it might be unfortunate for you,” Morticia said simply. “If I could force myself to dream about you, I might keep you awake with how loud I get.”

Gomez groaned loudly and kissed her once again. “I’m going to give you something to dream about.”

“Is that a threat?” she murmured, moving her lips down to his neck.

“Of course it is.” 

“Good.” 

… 

“Hey Hump Day!” Wednesday heard as she was trying to get to the bus without being seen. “I know you heard me!”

“Wednesday, Kelsey is trying to get your attention,” Pugsley pointed out.

“I’m aware,” Wednesday said through gritted teeth as she turned to face her. “Stop calling me Hump Day, Kelsey.”

Kelsey let out a huff, crossing her arms while simultaneously flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder. “It's less of a mouthful than Wednesday,” she said snottily. 

“At least my parents have imagination,” Wednesday shot back.

“Speaking of your parents,” Kelsey said with a sigh. “Our moms have been spending a lot of time together.”

“For the PTA dinner,” Wednesday said flatly.

“So,” Kelsey said with an exaggerated eye roll. She plopped her sparkly, monogrammed backpack on the ground and pulled out an envelope. “My mom told me to invite you to my sleepover this weekend.”

Wednesday glared at the pink envelope with horror, noticing it had little unicorns on it. “You really don’t have to do that.”

“My mom said I can’t take no for an answer.”

“I’ll go,” Pugsley said, bouncing his eyebrows.

Kelsey scoffed. “It's girls only.”

“Is that a solid deal breaker?” he asked. “I can get my hands on some pretty fun stuff.”

“Fine,” Wednesday said, if only to get her brother to stop talking. “I’ll ask my mom.” She took the envelope and shoved it in her backpack. “Can I bring Aristotle?” 

“What is an Aristotle?”

“Pugsley’s octopus.”

Kelsey frowned and shuddered slightly. “No, no pets and no boys.”

“Well that's just rude,” Pugsley muttered as Kelsey turned to walk away. “Are you going to tell mom or should we set that on fire?”

Wednesday frowned as she made her way onto the bus, plopping down in seat 13. “I’m going to tell her.”

Pugsley laughed. “Yeah, because you can’t lie to mom.”

Wednesday’s frown deepened. “Yes I can.”

“No you can’t!” Pugsley insisted. “You fold like a bloody napkin!”

Wednesday found herself rather perplexed because her brother was right. There was just something about her mother! She could lie straight to her father’s face no problem, but her mother made it difficult. Then it struck her, who said she needed her mother’s permission instead of her father’s? She would just need to catch him alone… which was a rarity.

“Do you want to go to the sleepover?” Pugsley prompted once Wednesday had been silent for too long.

“No,” Wednesday huffed. “I don’t like sleepovers. I don’t want to watch a Hilary Duff movie and do makeovers. So you’re going to keep your mouth shut about this until I get to ask Father about it.”

“Why do you think he would tell you no? He would buy you a brand new tent to take the second the question was out of your mouth.”

“I don’t think he’ll say no, but I can lie to him. So I’m going to make something up about it so he says no out of sympathy or anger or something.” Wednesday sighed. “I just need to get him away from Mother.”

“You have a crowbar.” 

“True, but could you distract Mother for me?” Wednesday asked, hoping she didn’t sound as desperate as she felt. “If you do, I’ll take down the blow torch I hid in your room.”

“You don’t have to, I like the surprise.” Pugsley shrugged. “I’ll distract Mother. I’ll tell her I’m having women troubles. I like when her eyes bulge with surprise when I say stuff like that. One day they’re going to fall out, and it's going to be great.”

“Thanks,” Wednesday grumbled, hoping he didn’t hear her.

“That's what big brothers are for!” Pugsley said far too loudly for her liking.

“Big brothers are also for pinching,” she said, swiftly pinching his side before he could react.

“Ow, my love handles!”


	9. Chapter 9

Walking through the front door, the children found their parents locked in a heated fencing match. “Don’t assume I will go easy on you, querida mia!” Gomez yelled as he jumped from the staircase. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it, mon-”

“Don’t!” he cried. “French will distract me!”

Wednesday and Pugsley continued to watch, the sound of metal scraping echoing through the hall. Somehow Morticia managed to remain as composed as ever, blocking attack after attack, while Gomez spastically jumped around, waving his sword like a mad man.

“We should record this one day,” Pugsley said. “It might go viral.” 

“Yeah, the way a disease would,” Wednesday responded. 

“Oh, hello, children,” Morticia said, finally noticing them. She swiftly flicked her sword, tapping Gomez’s chest. 

“Ah, right in the heart!” he cried dramatically. “Children, your mother has ended me!”

“How was school, darlings?” Morticia asked, handing the rapiers over to Lurch, who had silently appeared to put them back. “Thank you, Lurch.”

“Actually, Mother,” Pugsley said, taking a step forward. “I was hoping maybe I could talk to you about some… woman troubles I’m having.”

Just as Pugsley said, Morticia’s eyes bulged with shock. “Define woman troubles, darling,” she said slowly, steering Pugsley toward the stairs.

“I need some advice on what women like,” he said, turning to wink at Wednesday over his shoulder.

“And you didn’t want to ask me?” Gomez asked.

“Are you a woman?” Pugsley asked.

Gomez shrugged. “Fair enough, go with your mother.”

Wednesday couldn’t believe that actually worked. She followed Gomez into the living room, all the while thinking up a lie to get her out of this sleepover. “Father, can I ask you something?” she said once she was sure Morticia and Pugsley were all the way upstairs. 

“Don’t tell me you need man advice,” Gomez said with a laugh.

“Don’t be disgusting, Father,” Wednesday said, taking a seat on the floor. Gomez sat beside her, contorting in legs into an uncomfortable pretzel position. Wednesday pulled out the envelope and handed it to him. “Kelsey Shannon invited me to a sleepover this weekend… but there's going to be boys there.”

Gomez’s eyes widened in shock. “Boys?”

Wednesday shrugged. “Yeah, Kelsey is inviting over her cousins from out of state. There's five of them. They’re all Pugsley’s age.”

“Wednesday… I’m sorry,” Gomez began, to Wednesday’s secret elatement. “I don’t know how comfortable I am with that. And knowing Kelsey’s mom doesn’t make me feel much better about it. What state?”

“Florida.”

“That seals it. I’m sorry, Wednesday, but I cannot allow you to go, and I’m sure your mother would agree with me.” He handed her the envelope back. “One day, when you have children of your own, you will understand.”

“I’m never going to have offspring, but that's beside the point. I was afraid of what Kelsey's room would look like anyway. I’m okay with it.”

“Good, I was worried you would be mad at me,” Gomez laughed, pulling her into a quick hug. “And you can go ahead and tell Kelsey that your father is a horrible tyrant who wouldn’t let you go, if she’ll even believe something like that.”

For a moment, Wednesday almost felt guilty for lying to him. Almost. She smiled softly, pushing that feeling away. “Do you want to play chess?”

Gomez beamed. “I would love to!”

Wednesday figured that letting him win might make up for everything. She couldn’t get soft now. If she developed an inability to lie to both of her parents, she would be doomed.

…

“Pugsley, if you become enamored with every woman who smells like a tin of tuna fish, you are going to have your heart broken many times,” Morticia tried to softly explain. “And also, if she already smells like tuna, giving her tuna as a gift might not be the way to go.”

“So what should I give her then?” Pugsley asked as he went about hammering his newest road sign to the wall. It was a crosswalk sign he stole from in front of the school, which he was rather proud of.

“Perhaps another food. Maybe some limburger cheese would be nice,” Morticia suggested. 

“Oh, I love limburger cheese!”

“I think Mama might keep some in her sock drawer. I’m sure she would give you some for… whoever this lucky girl may be.”

“Woman,” Pugsley said pointedly.

Morticia narrowed her eyes at him, crossing her arms. “Pugsley, you aren’t talking about your teacher again, are you?”

“Love is love, Mother,” Pugsley said with a shrug.

“When that other person is your own age.” Morticia sighed and stood from his bed. What trouble could he truly get into? “Just be careful, darling.”

“I’m going to go get that cheese!” he said, rushing from his room and up to the attic.

Morticia fondly shook her head as she watched him go. “He is his father’s son.”


	10. Chapter 10

“Tish, are you still awake?” Gomez mumbled, his head resting on Morticia’s chest. 

“Yes, darling,” she said softly, stroking his hair.

“Do you ever wonder if Fester is gay?” he asked casually.

“Every day of my life.”

“Oh good, me too. I should ask Mama and Lurch what they think.”

Morticia laughed softly. “Speculating isn’t going to get him out of the closet. Ironic seeing as he does love to take naps in his closet…”

“How do we subtly let him know it's okay?” Gomez wondered as he reached under his pillow to grab a cigar.

Morticia sighed as she thought it over. “I don’t know, darling. As much as I want to support him, I refuse to bring anything rainbow colored into this home.”

Gomez laughed, kissing Morticia’s cheek. “Let's just let him come out on his own then. If we’re even right.”

“It's not like he's very lucky with women in the first place,” Morticia sighed. “In fact, that was an understatement.”

Gomez nodded in agreement. “Ah well, maybe one day things will work out. But I am done setting him up!”

“Agreed,” Morticia said resolutely, settling back on her pillow. “Goodnight, my love.”

Gomez leaned down to kiss her, smoke still curling tantalizingly from his lips. “Goodnight, cara mia.”

No sooner had Gomez put out his cigar and turned off their bedside lamp than their door, which was always locked, slammed open. That was followed by a very loud wailing and an overly floral smell invading their bedroom. The lights snapped on to reveal Ophelia standing in the doorway, sobbing her eyes out.

“Ophelia?!?” Morticia gasped, yanking the sheets up to her chin. “What and how are you doing here?”

“Sister!” Ophelia wailed, crawling onto their bed. “It's so horrible!”

“Can it be horrible not in our bed?” Gomez asked, frantically searching for his clothing which was nowhere to be found.

“I’m so distraught!” Ophelia cried, ignoring Gomez as she slid under the covers, settling between them.

“Ophelia, we aren’t exactly dressed for this,” Morticia said as gently as possible.

“Or at all!” Gomez yelled, shoving a spare pillow below the sheets in a desperate attempt to keep Ophelia away.

“He’s left me!” Ophelia sobbed, still ignoring her sister and brother in law.

“Who has, dear?” Morticia asked, looking around the room in confusion.

“My dear, darling, Ishmael!” Ophelia let out another sob and plunked her head onto Morticia’s shoulder, which resulted in Morticia getting a face full of daisies. “He just left! He said his rumspringa was over and he had to go back to his people!”

“His people?”

“The amish!” 

Gomez snorted out a laugh and Morticia shot him a warning look. “There, there, Ophelia… I’m sure it's not as bad as it seems.”

“He was the one! My Adonis! And now he’s just gone!” She let out a very loud, anguished cry, throwing her arms completely around her sister. “Oh, Morticia, I’m doomed to a life of spinsterhood!”

“That's not so bad,” Gomez said with a shrug. “Mama seems to be getting on just fine.”

This only made Ophelia cry harder. “Gomez, please,” Morticia whispered. “You aren’t doomed, Ophelia. You will find the perfect match some day.”

“Maybe a man who has petunias growing out of his head,” Gomez suggested. 

“Petunias?” Ophelia squeaked, picking her head up. “Don’t be silly!”

Gomez held up his hand in surrender. “You’re right, how foolish of me.”

“Gomez, would you be a dear and go make Ophelia some tea?” Morticia asked, mainly just wanting to move this party away from their bedroom somehow.

“Well I would, but there's the small matter of my penis, dear,” he said pointedly. 

Ophelia’s eyes widened in delight, her head turning back toward Gomez. “Small matter?”

Morticia slapped her hand over her eyes and sighed deeply. Gomez’s face turned a bright shade of red as Ophelia tilted her head in intrigue to look at his lap. “I didn’t mean that my penis itself was small, what I meant was that the matter surrounding my penis was small.”

“Gomez, darling, I am begging you to stop saying penis,” Morticia groaned.

“No, no,” Ophelia said with glee. “Keep going!”

“Ophelia, why don’t you go find a room to stay in for the night?” Morticia suggested, trying to push her sister out of bed. “We can talk more in the morning.”

Ophelia spontaneously burst into tears once again. “Everyone always kicks me out!”

“We aren’t kicking you out, you’re welcome to stay with us as long as you need to,” Morticia said softly, which made Gomez groan. “We just ask that you find your own room to stay in while you’re here.”

“Oh, very well,” Ophelia sighed. She stood abruptly in the middle of the bed, pulling the black sheet with her. The couple instantly reached up to pull it back down. “I shall take my leave!” She skipped to the foot of the bed and jumped down before spinning back to face them. “It just isn’t fair.”

“About Ishmael, dear?”

“No! Your boobs!” Ophelia yelled. “You had two kids but they’re so perky!”

“She has a point there,” Gomez said with a grin.

“Why didn’t you inherit mom’s wonky nipple?” Ophelia asked, her lip quivering. “I did! Look at it!”

“No!” Morticia and Gomez yelled together as Ophelia began to yank down the top of her dress.

“I think a good night’s sleep will do you good, Ophelia,” Morticia said, clearly stressed about the events of the past five minutes.

“Fiddle dee dee!” Ophelia cried before dashing from their room, leaving the door wide open.

“The door, Ophelia!” Gomez yelled, but it was of no use. Either she was too far away to hear or just straight up ignored him.

“I guess I’ll get it,” he sighed, sliding out of bed. “I think we’re going to have to replace the lock.”

“Ha!” Ophelia cried, sticking her head back through the door, which resulted in Gomez screaming like a girl. “Oh, dear brother in law, you should have said the large matter.” She giggled and skipped away as Gomez slammed the door shut.

“Has no one ever taught your sister boundaries?” he cried.

Morticia glumly shook her head, all the while subtly glancing down at her chest. “I didn’t know mother had a wonky nipple… yet another thing she shared with Ophelia and not me.”

“Cara mia,” he laughed, climbing back into the safety of the bed. “Are you lamenting over the fact that your nipples are perfect?” 

She grinned, rather enjoying the ego boost. “I suppose not.”

“While normally I would be over you in a second, I’m afraid the smell of daisies permeating our sheets has completely killed the mood. That, and the fact that our lock no longer works and I am concerned that your sister will sneak back in in the night. It feels as though I am watching a baseball game! Oh no, what if this is the beginning of the end? What if I’m never able to get an er-”

“Moulin rouge,” Morticia said, cutting off his rant.

“Oh… never mind.” He grinned. “Crisis averted.” 

Morticia reached over and stroked his cheek. “I have no worries about your libido, my love.” She kissed him quickly before settling back on her pillow. “Goodnight.” 

Gomez laughed softly. “For real this time.”


	11. Chapter 11

The next morning, Morticia wasn’t entirely sure what to expect when walking into the kitchen. However, she really did not expect to find her sister using Lurch’s jacket as an apron as she hacked at a giant hunk of meat with a cleaver while singing a Carly Rae Jepson song at the top of her lungs.

“Mother, did you know Aunt Ophelia was here?” Wednesday asked over her eggs, looking slightly horrified. 

“Trust me, Wednesday,” Gomez said while making a beeline for the coffee pot. “We are well aware.”

Morticia walked over to kiss her children before turning her attention to her sister. “Care to explain what you’re doing and why you must ruin poor Lurch’s jacket to do it?”

Ophelia lifted her head and cleaver, eyes wide. “He said he would like it better with blood all over it!”

Lurch groaned from over the stove, shaking his head.

“What are you making?” Morticia pressed, gratefully taking a cup of coffee from Gomez.

“I wanted pot roast!” Ophelia cried, flinging bits of meat around. 

“Disgusting,” Pugsley scoffed. “Pot roast. She isn’t even using zebra.”

“Pugsley,” Morticia said in a warning voice. “Eat your shrimp eggs.”

Pugsley laughed as he turned his face back to his bowl. Wednesday sighed as she brought her bowl over to the sink. “There are far too many blondes in this house as of late,” she huffed under her breath, turning to narrow her eyes at Pugsley.

“Oh dear, Terri and Sherri were coming over today,” Morticia gasped, Wednesday’s not so silent comment reminding her. “Gomez, darling, love of my life?”

He turned to his wife with a grin. “Cara mia?”

She wound her arms around his shoulders, lowering her eyelids in what was hopefully a seductive gesture. “It would make things so much simpler today if you could take Ophelia out to lunch.”

Gomez’s eyes widened in terror. “Tish…”

“If you do this for me, I will-”

“Children in the room!” Pugsley yelled, covering his ears.

“Morticia, my love, you don’t need to bribe me,” Gomez laughed, kissing her forehead. “Especially since Ophelia is right over there and is listening intently. I will do it, simply because you asked.”

Morticia’s shoulders sagged in relief. “I love you so much.”

Gomez grinned, leaning down to whisper in her ear. “I won’t turn down whatever you were going to suggest, however.”

“Who says I want to go out to lunch?” Ophelia asked, still hacking at her meat. “I’m too distressed to be seen in public! I miss Ishmael!”

“I’m paying, Ophelia,” Gomez said flatly.

“Oh… well in that case,” Ophelia said with a shrug, tossing the cleaver haphazardly behind her. “I better go rub some meat on my dress!” She jumped up onto the table and started rolling around on top of the meat hunks.

“Ophelia, dear, that isn’t good for the meat,” Morticia said, side stepping a flying hunk. “You’ll get pollen in it.”

Lurch groaned, shaking his head as he watched Ophelia destroy his well kept kitchen.

“Extra flavor, sister dear!”

“We’re going to go to a bar for lunch,” Gomez said, a deep frown on his face.

“I’m going to do that thing you like and I’m going to do it twice,” Morticia said, sympathetically patting his cheek.

“We’re going to the bus stop,” Wednesday said in a rush, grabbing Pugsley’s arm. “Goodbye!”

“Goodbye, my darlings!” Morticia called after them.

Gomez grabbed Pugsley’s backpack, halting him in his tracks. “Take me with you!”

“Gomez,” Morticia warned, pulling him back. “I’ll do it three times.”

“I’ll make reservations!” he said happily, clapping his hands. “This will be fun!”

..

“Oh, that smell!” Ophelia whined as a burger was carried past their table. “It smells like my sweet Ishmael!”

Gomez crinkled his nose in distaste. “Beef?”

“He loved beef!” Ophelia cried, startling the table beside them in the crowded bar.

“Ophelia, perhaps you should take a few breaths,” Gomez suggested. “Maybe that will help you calm down.” 

Ophelia sucked in a strange, gasping breath that sounded more like someone being choked. She did that several times before her shoulders slumped and she finally managed to stop crying. She reached over to pat Gomez on the head, but missed and ended up patting his face. “My dear, dear, brother in law. If only Morticia hadn’t stolen you all those years ago.”

Gomez rolled his eyes, moving her hand away from his face. “It's not really stealing if I let her take me, but I digress. You know, you don’t need a man to be happy.”

“Hogwash!” she cried, slumping in her seat. “Who am I if men don’t desire me?”

Gomez pondered that for a moment, resting his chin in his hand. “That may be a valid point…”

“Gomez!” Ophelia gasped in a voice that sounded astoundingly like her sister’s. “If Morticia isn’t here to scold you then I will!”

Instead of responding, Gomez finished off his drink. “Where did the waiter go?”

“You’re supposed to cheer me up!” Ophelia whined. “Go get me some of those little umbrellas from the bar!”

Thankful for any excuse to get away from the table for a moment, Gomez shot out of his seat and walked up to the bar. “Excuse me, old chap, odd request. My bereaved sister in law desperately wants some-”

“Mini umbrellas?” the bartender finished for him. “Be my guest, we get more than we ever use.”

He handed Gomez a box from under the bar and he was on his way back to the table. “There you are, Ophelia, tiny umbrellas.” 

She let out a high pitched squeal and started pulling umbrellas out and placing them around the crown of daisies in her hair. “Now my daisies won’t wilt!” 

“Good, that would be a shame,” Gomez said sarcastically, resting his head in his hand. 

“Pray tell, fair Gomez?” Ophelia sighed, loudly scooting her chair closer to him. “Do you think I’m alluring?”

Gomez let out a very long sigh. “I think you’re a very nice girl, Ophelia,” he said flatly.

“Nice?” she let out a chittering laugh, giving no more explanation. 

“Why don’t you just take a little time for you now?” Gomez asked as their food came. “I could teach you some zen yogi, if you’d like.”

Ophelia considered that for a moment before shaking her head in distaste. “No, I don’t think that's the journey for me.”

Gomez stared at her in confusion. As long as he lived, he was positive he would never understand his sister in law. And that was fine, he wasn’t really sure if he wanted to anyway.

…

“Oh the ballroom looks great!” Terri praised as Lurch and Fester finished hauling the last of the junk away. “This will be so perfect for the dinner!”

“I don’t think we’ve had a venu this… fascinating before,” Sherri said, doing a lap around the empty room. “Not since the natural history museum.”

“I was thinking the tables would go in the center,” Morticia said. “And perhaps the band could go in the corner over here, under the portrait of Grandma Infection.”

Terri and Sherri shared a horrified look, but didn’t remark on anything. “That would be a good place for the band,” Terri said instead. “I booked the string quartet we used last fall.”

“Speaking of, Mama looked over your menu, Sherri, and she was less than thrilled, to be frank,” Morticia said gently. “However, I got her to agree to the changes.” 

Mama was absolutely disgusted, to be honest, but after hurling a few knives at the wall, Morticia was able to get her to calm down enough to see reason. It was only for one night anyway, and she didn’t even have to eat any of it.

“Oh, good,” Sherri said, awkwardly twisting one of the many bracelets on her wrist. 

“I think as soon as we get the tables in, we’ll be in very good shape!” Terri said, happily clapping her hands together. “Which means… it's lunch time! Oh, Morticia, won’t you come with us today? Your husband is already out.”

Gomez really was Morticia’s only excuse for not going out with these women. What other choice did she have without appearing rude? “Of course I’ll go.”

Just as she said that, however, Gomez walked through the doors to the ballroom with Ophelia on his back. “Sister dear!” Ophelia yelled. “I got us kicked out of the restaurant!”

“Can you please get off my back now?” Gomez asked, his voice strained.

Ophelia slid down with a squeal of joy before skipping over to Morticia, taking her hands. “Apparently judo flipping a waiter is frowned upon.”

“But it was okay when she did it to me,” Gomez groaned, rubbing his back as he kissed Morticia’s cheek.

“Ophelia-” Morticia began, but was cut off by Terri.

“Morticia, is this your sister?” she asked, seemingly fascinated as she walked over.

“Ophelia Frump!” Ophelia said happily, sticking out her hand.

“I’m sorry, what was that last name?” Terri asked.

“Frump!” Morticia said quickly. “With a hard F on the front of that.”

“Oh, okay,” Terri said in an indiscernible tone. “Well, we were about to go to lunch. You’re welcome to join, Ophelia, since it seems as though you didn’t get to eat.”

The whole point of Gomez taking Ophelia out this afternoon was so Terri and Sherri could come in and plan with things going smoothly. Morticia was afraid that introducing Ophelia into the equation would throw things totally off, since her sister had a habit of doing just that. However, since Terri and Sherri had reached their max of ‘working’ for the day, Morticia didn’t see the harm in it.

“Oh, yes!” Ophelia said excitedly, throwing her arms around Morticia’s shoulders. “I love lunch!”

“Gomez, darling,” Morticia said, detangling from her sister. “I hope you’ll be okay if I go. It's totally okay if you won’t be, however, you can tell me,” she said pointedly, hoping he would catch on. 

Unfortunately for Morticia, Gomez was too distracted by his sudden, Ophelia induced, back pain to notice. “You go, my love. I think I’m going to stretch out on the rack for a bit.”

Morticia’s blatant disappointment was masked by her normally stoic expression. “Of course, darling.” She kissed him quickly before Ophelia grabbed her arm and stated yanking her away. “Feel better!”

“Come, come, sister dear!” Ophelia sang. “I want gumbo!”

“I… don’t think they have gumbo at the country club,” Terri said slowly.

“Not to worry,” Morticia sighed. “She’ll find a way to make her own.”


	12. Chapter 12

“Trust us, Ophelia,” Sherri began after her third glass of sangria. “You are way better off without a man.”

“Yeah, your sister is a rare case,” Terri added with a laugh, nudging Morticia. “Men aren’t worth it.”

“I often think about how different my life would be if Morticia didn’t steal Gomez away from me…” Ophelia said forlornly as a cocktail umbrella fell from her head.

“You did what?” Terri and Sherri said at the same time.

Morticia sent a scathing glare her sister’s way. Through her sad facade, Ophelia smugly looked back at Morticia. “It is far less scandalous than it sounds.”

“Do tell, please.” 

“Ophelia and Gomez were only dating,” Morticia said in a diplomatic tone. “Gomez and I met, seemingly by fate, and the rest was history. And Ophelia, you must admit that it was for the best. You and Gomez have nothing in common.”

Ophelia let out a very long sigh but didn’t say anything else.

“Anyway, the past is the past,” Morticia said. “And I would say we settled things amicably.”

Luckily the conversation was halted by Terri getting a text from her daughter. “Oh, Morticia, Kelsey just told me that Wednesday said she can’t come to her sleepover.” Terri made a pouty face. “That's a shame, why not?”

“I didn’t even know about this,” Morticia said, toying with her tea cup. “Wednesday never mentioned a sleepover.”

Terri looked back at her phone. “Kelsey says that Wednesday said her father said no.”

“That doesn’t sound like Gomez,” Morticia said thoughtfully. “Give me a moment, I’ll call him.”

“Yes, please do so I can tell Terri and Sherri about that time you got in trouble for setting up a bear trap in our neighbors yard,” Ophelia giggled.

Morticia gritted her teeth. “You send one elderly man to the ER and you never hear the end of it. I’ll be right back.”

Morticia walked out of the dining room to the hall, frowning at all the people in their tennis whites. She hit dial on Gomez’s number and he answered on the first ring, as always. 

“Cara mia?”

“Gomez, darling, how is your back?” she asked.

“The rack helped a lot, I feel much better,” he said jovially. “Hows lunch? I’m assuming it's dreadful!”

“Oh, darling, I’m not lucky enough for dreadful,” Morticia sighed. “I wanted to ask you about something Terri said. Apparently her daughter invited Wednesday to a sleepover, but Wednesday told Kelsey that you said she couldn’t go.”

“Oh, I meant to tell you about that but then I saw you naked and it totally slipped my mind,” Gomez said thoughtfully. “But yes, I said no because Wednesday told me that Kelsey’s boy cousins… from Florida… are going to be there and that made me completely uncomfortable. If any of them were to try something Wednesday would surely dismember them and while it may be deserved, that is not a lawsuit I feel like going through right now.”

“Oh, darling, you made the right call,” Morticia said, shuddering at the thought of boys from Florida. 

“Again, I’m sorry for not telling you. I’m surprised Wednesday even asked me instead of you.”

“Because you are the pushover,” Morticia said with a slight laugh.

“Am not!” Gomez said indignantly. 

“Whatever you say, my love. I should return to the table, who knows what Ophelia has said about me in the time I’ve been gone. She already told them that I stole you away from her.”

“Huh, she brought that up at lunch as well.”

Morticia rolled her eyes. “You know I love my sister, but…”

“Say no more, querida, I understand completely.” Gomez laughed. “Now, can you wrap up your lunch please? I miss you dearly.”

Morticia smiled fondly. “I miss you as well. I’ll try to be home soon. I love you.”

“And I love you.”

Morticia ruefully hung up and made her way back to the dining room where Ophelia was in the middle of what was no doubt a horrifically embarrassing story about Morticia. She slid back into the booth, trying to block out whatever was being said.

“What did Gomez say?” Terri asked.

“Wednesday asked him and to be honest, he was a bit uncomfortable with the fact that some of Kelsey’s Floridian boy cousins would be there,” Morticia said as gently as possible. “I’m sure Wednesday was disappointed.”

“What?” Terri asked with a laugh. “Kelsey doesn’t have any cousins from Florida. This sleepover is girls only, trust me, Morticia.”

Morticia’s eyebrows pulled together in slight confusion. “Oh?”

“Yeah, my husband won’t even be there,” Terri laughed. “He’ll be on a business trip, the nanny is going to be chaperoning since I’ll be at your house for the dinner.”

It didn’t take long for Morticia to put two and two together. Wednesday went to Gomez because she found him easier to lie to, because she wanted nothing to do with the girls that Kelsey would invite. Hurt was the main emotion Morticia was currently feeling. Didn’t Wednesday know that if only she said she didn’t want to go, she wouldn’t have to go? Why did she feel the need to lie?

“I will be having a talk with Wednesday,” Morticia said slowly.

“Ohh,” Ophelia said under her breath. “Someones in trouble.”

“No one is in trouble, Ophelia.”

“Speaking of trouble,” Sherri said, checking her watch. “I should go. I need to go to the supermarket to get stuff for dinner. Not only that, but it's Thursday.” She rolled her eyes. 

“Oh, so your day is Thursday?” Terri asked. “Ours is Sunday.”

“What are you talking about?” Ophelia asked. “Do you have children named after days of the week as well?”

“No, those are our ‘sex days,’” Terri said with an eyeroll. “You know, the one day of week you have to suck it up and lay there for a bit?”

Both Ophelia and Morticia looked at them as if they were crazy. “Just one day?” Ophelia asked. “Oh dear… how sad.”

Sherri shrugged. “You have to keep the spark alive somehow.”

“Oh my God, Morticia thinks we’re nuts,” Terri laughed. “What, do you and Gomez just do it on a whim like teenagers?” 

“Well, I wouldn’t say on a whim…”

“Can the lady with the perfect marriage please tell us how many times a week it happens?” Sherri asked with deep intrigue.

“It doesn’t stop,” Ophelia said, making her eyebrows bounce up and down.

“Is that true?”

“It stops,” Morticia said quietly. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

Terri held up her hands. “I need a number.”

“It's hard to say… it changes from day to day.”

“That's it, I’m leaving,” Sherri said, grabbing her purse. “I can’t comprehend that. I bow to you, Morticia.”

“I think the two of you need a night to let loose!” Ophelia said, throwing up her hands. “Let your hair down out of their hair sprayed helmets!” 

“Yeah, right,” Terri said sarcastically. “I wouldn’t even know how to do that. I should go as well, lunch was lovely, I’m glad you could actually come, Morticia.”

Morticia smiled and politely nodded as the two ladies left. Ophelia let out a long sigh and shot out of her chair. “I saw a pool, didn’t I?”

“It's closed, Ophelia. For some reason they close pools in September,” Morticia said, rolling her eyes at the ludicrous idea. “If you ask me, that's when the pools should open.”

“But I saw a fountain!” Ophelia cried and the next thing Morticia knew, she was out of the dining room and bolting toward the front of the country club.

“Oh no,” Morticia sighed, following after her sister.

There was a loud splash followed by shouting. Morticia walked out onto the stone walkway to see Ophelia being yanked out of the large fountain by two security guards. Morticia picked up the pace, reaching them just as Ophelia was about to judo flip both the guards. 

“Ophelia, please!” Morticia cried. “You’re going to hurt them!”

“Could you both please leave?” one of the guards asked. “This sets a bad example for the country club.”

Morticia narrowed her eyes at him, threading her arm through her sister’s sopping wet one. “Come along, Ophelia. It is clear that they’re dead set on maintaining their boring environment here.”

Morticia started to pull her away, but Ophelia couldn’t resist turning around to stick her tongue out at them. “Everyone around here needs to lighten up,” Ophelia sighed.


	13. Chapter 13

Thankfully Ophelia took off to the garden the second they got back to the Addams house, which gave Morticia the perfect opportunity to discuss the whole Wednesday predicament with Gomez. As always, the second Lurch opened the door Gomez was racing down the hall and pulling Morticia into his arms.

“Tish! My love!” he planted a giant kiss on her cheek and began moving up, kissing her temple, then the top of her head. “I missed you so much!”

“I’ve missed you as well, my darling, but I have something to discuss with you that is rather important,” she said, ruefully pushing him away. 

“Is it unpleasant?” he asked, eyebrows ticking upwards.

“Deeply,” she sighed, pulling him into the sitting room. They took a seat on the couch as Gomez nodded for her to go on. “Darling, I’m afraid Wednesday lied to you.”

“What? To me? Never!” he scoffed before saying, “about what?”

“Kelsey’s sleepover. There will be no boys there, Terri assured me.”

Gomez’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “But why would she lie?”

Morticia sighed as she distractedly traced her fingers along the back of Gomez’s hand. “I know that she isn’t necessarily fond of the girls who will be going. What did she think? That we were going to force her to go?”

Gomez shrugged as he pulled out his pocket watch. “The children will be home soon, we can ask her then.”

Morticia sighed, leaning over to rest her head on his shoulder. “Do you want to hear something even more upsetting?” she asked. “But you have to promise not to repeat it.”

“Who am I going to tell?” he laughed. “Thing?” 

“Thing does have a rather popular blog, but anyway.” She picked her head back up, eyes narrowed like she was about to say something scandalous. “Terri and Sherri schedule one day a week to have sex with their husbands.”

Gomez’s eyes widened to the point where one of his eyelids got stuck. “Ow, ow, Tish!”

“Hold still, darling.” Morticia took his face in her hands, gently using her long nail to reset his eyelid. 

Gomez blinked a few times, shaking his head. “That was new and fun! Anyway, if it wasn’t clear, I find that news shocking and appalling. I literally can’t fathom that.” He continued rubbing his eye, which was starting to tear up. 

“Neither can I,” Morticia said, swiping her thumb across his cheek. “I am very lucky to have you, mon cher.”

He instantaneously leaned his face into her hand, kissing her palm, then her wrist as he made his way up her arm. “Mi amore,” he whispered. “My ecstasy, my only love. Allow me to express my gratitude for having you as my wife.”

Morticia was set to give in, until the front door creaked open. “Later, darling.” She kissed him quickly and sat back up. “Wednesday Friday Addams! Could you come here, please?”

“Oooohhh,” Pugsley said. “Wednesday is in trouble!”

“Shut up, Pugsley,” Wednesday said flatly as they walked into the room.

“Your sister isn’t in trouble,” Gomez said as he pulled out a cigar.

“But Mother used her middle name!”

Morticia sighed, turning her gaze on her son. “Pugsley Gomez Addams, could you please go upstairs and play for a moment?”

“Now who's in trouble?” Wednesday shot back.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Pugsley muttered, taking his time walking out of the room.

“Have a seat, Wednesday dear,” Morticia said, her voice even and calm though she was feeling anything but.

Wednesday frowned as she pulled over an ottoman to sit in front of her parents. “Is this about the frog?”

“What? No, but perhaps we’ll circle back to that,” Morticia said slowly.

“No need. It's dead.”

“Wednesday, what we want to know is why you lied to your father?”

Wednesday shrugged. “Because he was really excited about that new hat. I didn’t want to completely crush him.”

Gomez’s mouth fell open in shock. “My hat with the vulture feathers? That is pure fashion, Wednesday, pure fashion!” He slumped in his seat, looking defeated.

Morticia supportively patted his knee but kept her attention on Wednesday. “We were talking about you lying about Kelsey Shannon’s sleepover. Her mother said there would be no boys, and definitely not any from Florida.”

Unfortunately for Morticia, Wednesday took far too much after her. Her face remained stoic, but only when looking at Gomez, she realized. Wednesday wouldn’t even glance in her direction, choosing instead to look directly at her father. She shrugged a small shoulder and remained silent.

“Wednesday, you can tell us the truth,” Gomez said softly. “For instance, what do you think of this suit?”

“Gomez, please,” Morticia sighed, squeezing his knee. 

Wednesday seemed determined to remain silent. Her arms were crossed, her dark eyes now stuck on her father’s shoes. Morticia remained silent as well. Two could play this game, and Morticia invented this game. Gomez, however, had trouble remaining silent for too long.

“Wednesday, we just want the truth!” he cried.

“It was a social experiment?”

“Wednesday, look at me,” Morticia eventually said. Slowly and begrudgingly, Wednesday finally made eye contact with her mother. “Tell us the truth.”

“I thought if I told you about it you would force me to go so I wouldn’t upset your new best friends,” Wednesday said, her voice calm and even as well. “So I lied to Father to get out of it.”

Morticia sighed, feeling a slight pang of hurt. She turned to Gomez, who was looking slightly betrayed. “Gomez, darling, why don’t you go see if Pugsley needs help with his homework?”

“Querida, you and I both know Pugsley isn’t doing homework.”

Morticia inclined her head, her eyes narrowing. “Darling.”

“Oh, right, right.” He stood, quickly kissing the top of Morticia’s head before leaving the room.

Morticia patted the spot on the couch he was occupying and Wednesday reluctantly moved to sit beside her. Morticia thought about what she was going to say to really get her point across as Wednesday glumly stared at the fireplace. 

“Wednesday, I would hope that you know I would never force you to do anything you don’t want to do,” she eventually said. “I also don’t want you to think you have to hide things from me.”

“But you’re spending all your time with those moms and I thought I would embarrass you if I just flat out said I didn’t want to go.”

“You could never embarrass me,” Morticia said, putting her hand on Wednesday’s shoulder. “Just because I’m working on something that's a bit out of our wheelhouse doesn’t mean I’m a completely different person. I don’t need the approval of those women and I don’t care if I have to tell them my daughter doesn’t want to go to their sleepover. They probably won’t even have a ouija board so what is even the point?”

Wednesday remained silent, though her frown was starting to grow. Morticia couldn’t help but feel distressed. What more could she say to Wednesday to reassure her? The knot that was forming in Morticia’s stomach was far more unpleasant than normal.

“Wednesday, talk to me,” Morticia almost pleaded.

“Now Aunt Ophelia is here.”

“Yes, I’m well aware.”

“And sometimes you get sort of… tense when she’s here,” Wednesday said slowly.

Morticia thought for a moment. Was that true and she never realized? Looking after her sister was a somewhat stressful job. For instance, Morticia was currently worried about whether or not Ophelia had fallen into an open grave in the back yard or not.

“My darling, I didn’t realize. To be fair to me, your aunt is… trying. But, she is my sister and I love her in spite of it all. And if that has affected you at all I’m truly sorry.”

Wednesday shrugged, looking down at her red nails. “It's alright, Mother. I just…”

“Like our family the way it is?” Morticia asked, reaching up to play with one of Wednesday’s braids. “So do I, my love. I swear on my mother's grave that nothing is going to change our family.”

Wednesday’s eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “Granny Frump is still alive.”

“Yes, as people keep reminding me.” That actually got a small laugh out of Wednesday, which made Morticia smile. “Speaking of Granny, I’m going to do something to you that she never did to me.”

Wednesday looked horrified for a moment before Morticia pulled her into a tight hug and pressed a kiss to her forehead, leaving a bright red lipstick print behind. Wednesday sighed and wrapped her arms around Morticia’s waist, giving in to the display of affection that she would have scoffed at had anyone else been in the room.

“Granny never hugged you?” Wednesday asked, her voice muffled against Morticia’s lace covered shoulder.

“If she did she would promptly complain that I was too skinny or smelled too much like cyanide,” Morticia laughed softly.

“I like the smell of cyanide.”

“Just like a true Addams.” Morticia pulled back to look down at her daughter. “No more lying, Wednesday, alright?” 

She nodded.

“And I want you to apologize to your father. It's not his fault that he's so darling and gullible,” Morticia added, trying not to laugh as she did so. 

“That's fair.”

“Good. Now, how about you and I go out back and dig some graves for you dolls?” She stood, extending her hands to pull Wednesday to her feet. “Just the two of us.”

An eerie grin formed on Wednesday’s face. “I’ll go get the shovel!” 

…

“You know, I used to do this when I was your age,” Morticia said, lightly patting down the small mound of dirt over one of the several graves Wednesday just dug. “I bet if you were to dig up Granny Frump’s backyard it would be nothing but headless dolls underneath.”

Wednesday laughed softly as she drove a wooden cross into the ground. “What else did you do when you were my age?”

Morticia shrugged. “Lots of things. I liked to try summoning demons, I tried out different spells on Ophelia, throwing rocks at cars was always fun, I played with my vultures. Normal kid things.”

Wednesday nodded, sitting back on the grass to admire her work. “Did you ever go to a sleepover?”

Morticia’s red lips pulled into a frown. “I wasn’t invited to a sleepover until high school. And I only went because I was obligated to, but it was so dreadful I ended up leaving in the middle of the night and walking home. And that walk home was much more exciting than the horrors I had been subjected to at that house. And besides, I knew I was only invited because I had to be, they didn’t truly want me there. Either those girls truly thought my name was Mortician or it was a joke they wouldn’t let up on.”

Wednesday’s nose crinkled in distaste. “Kelsey calls me Hump Day.”

“How very unoriginal,” Morticia said with a roll of her eyes. “No wonder you didn’t want to go.”

“The thought of being able to prank them in their sleep was rather enticing,” Wednesday said. “But I don’t know how worth it it would have been.”

“What were you planning on doing?”

“I considered putting nair on all their heads while they were asleep, but that seemed a bit boring. I was also thinking of getting Pugsley to stand outside the window with a chainsaw.”

“Oh, that would have been funny,” Morticia said, right as Gomez walked outside.

“Ah, there are my two beautiful girls!” he exclaimed. “Digging some graves?”

“It was Mother’s idea,” Wednesday said in as happy a tone as she could manage.

“Help me up, darling,” Morticia said, extending her hands to Gomez.

“With pleasure, querida mia,” he said with a wide grin, pulling Morticia to her feet and promptly wrapping his arms around her.

Wednesday, who was silently trying to sneak away, was caught by Morticia before she could go anywhere. “Darling, I believe you have something you want to say to your father.”

Wednesday let out a long sigh before saying, “I’m sorry you’re so easy to lie to. It won’t happen again.”

Gomez shrugged. “I’ll take it. Bring it in!”

He pulled Wednesday into a group hug before she had a chance to protest. “I’ve never been hugged so much in my life,” she grumbled, her face squished against a button on Gomez’s blazer.

The creak of a window opening made all three of them look up. Pugsley was leaning out, a scowl on his face. “I see how it is! Send me up stairs so you can hug your favorite child!”

“We don’t have a favorite child, Pugsley!” Morticia yelled up to him.

“Yeah, and if we did, it would be Fester!” Gomez added.

“Oh goodie!” Fester yelled, popping out of the window beneath Pugsley.

“I’m going inside now,” Wednesday said, detangling herself from her parents and stalking inside.

“She loves affection,” Morticia said quietly once Wednesday was gone. “But she’ll never admit it.”

Gomez laughed, lifting Morticia’s hand to his mouth. “She takes so much after you in every other aspect. I would say you’re very vocal about your love of… affection.”

Morticia’s eyes darkened a fraction. “Oui, mon amour.” 

“Oh, Tish,” Gomez growled, his lips flying to her neck.

Morticia got to momentarily enjoy her husband's amorous attack, until she leaned her head back and noticed Fester still watching them from the window. He grinned down at her and waved as if nothing was wrong. “Darling,” she whispered. “Fester is watching us.”

Gomez lifted his head. “Go inside, Uncle Fester!”

“That's okay!” he called back. “I like to watch!”

Morticia slowly shook her head, wordlessly walking back inside. Gomez followed, of course, but was much more amused than his wife by the situation. “Maybe our theory about him was wrong then,” Gomez laughed.

Morticia’s frown only grew. “It could be you he enjoys watching.”

“Euck, I’m his brother,” Gomez said, pensively biting down on a cigar.

“I’m much too tired to have this argument, as I’m sure are you, seeing as you spent the morning with my sister.” She glanced around to make sure they were truly alone. “Why don’t we sneak down to the playroom?”

“Morticia mia,” he whispered, kissing her cheek. “I love the way your brain works.”

Morticia grinned and took his hand, tugging him down toward the playroom. The second she had the door opened, Gomez had his lips on her’s, pushing her back against the brick wall. Both of them were too distracted to notice the fact that they were very much not alone until Ophelia let out a loud squeal as Gomez’s jacket hit her head.

“What is in your pockets, Gomez?” she gasped, sitting up on the bed of nails with his jacket still draped over her head. “I got hit by something heavy!”

“I thought you were outside, Ophelia,” Morticia said, fighting back her disappointment. 

“I was and now I’m inside.”

“Ophelia, take Gomez’s jacket off your head,” Morticia sighed. “Why don’t you go upstairs and take a bath? You look like you got rather muddy.”

“A bath?” she asked, blue eyes wide. “Yes… I think I would like a bath…” she hopped off the bed of nails and started to skip toward the door.

“I recommend taking your clothes off, dear,” Morticia called after her.

Ophelia paused in the doorway, a smirk on her face. “Naughty naughty, sister dear.” She wagged her finger before twirling away.

“Perhaps Wednesday was right,” Morticia said, reaching up to rub her temples.

“About what, Tish?” Gomez asked as he wound his arms around Morticia’s waist, resting his chin on her shoulder.

“I think I do get tense when my sister comes to visit,” she admitted, sinking back into Gomez’s embrace. She reached up to absentmindedly stroke his cheek as she tried not to stress too much, and finding that it was easier said than done. 

“Well it's no wonder,” Gomez said as if it was obvious. “My darling, you always end up mothering your older sister when quite frankly, that isn’t your responsibility.”

Morticia frowned. “If it isn’t mine, then whos is it?”

“Ophelia’s, Morticia,” Gomez said, an abnormal seriousness in his normally joyful voice. He wound himself around so they were standing face to face. “She is a grown woman, she can handle all her issues herself.”

Morticia rolled her eyes at him. “You know she can’t.”

“Tish, every time Ophelia goes to pieces over something where does she end up? At our doorstep, expecting you to fix everything. Then, the second she decides that she’s moved on, she’s gone, sometimes without so much as a goodbye,” Gomez said, taking her face in his hands. “Tell me, how is that fair to you?”

Morticia’s frown deepened even further. Of course Gomez was right, but him being right about it didn’t make much of a difference in the grand scheme of things. “Be that as it may, she’s my sister, Gomez. It's family first and family last and family by and by.”

Gomez sighed. “When you’re an Addams.”

“Exactly,” Morticia said softly.

“Technically though… She's a Frump, not an Addams.”

Morticia shook her head. “She is still family, Gomez.”

“It's a wonder you turned out so normal,” Gomez said, his eyes wide. He reached up to touch the top of Morticia’s head with his fingertips. “What if flowers grew out of your head?”

Morticia shuddered at the horrifying thought. “You take that horrible statement back this instant.”

“Just little, tiny sweet peas,” Gomez said with amusement, ignoring the death glare Morticia was shooting him. “Right here.”

“Gomez,” she all but growled, narrowing her eyes at him.

“Querida?”

She reached up and yanked on his silk tie, catching him completely off guard as he pitched forward. “Never mention flowers growing out of my head again.”

He raised an eyebrow in intrigue. “Or what?” 

She pushed up the knot of his tie, making him wheeze slightly. “You will regret it.” She pushed up on her toes to get closer to his face. “Deeply.” 

Gomez let out a low moan, his hands tightly gripping Morticia’s hips. He yanked her tightly against him and pushed her back against the wall. “What if I want to regret it?”

“You don’t,” Morticia said confidently. She let her hands slide down his chest, coming to a halt once she reached his belt.

“Morticia,” he hissed, inclining his head toward her, “mia, goddess among men. I can just picture the tiny, red poppies blooming on the top of your head.”

Morticia slowly shook her head. “Big mistake, mon amour.”

She sunk down to her knees and swiftly unbuckled his belt. “It doesn’t seem like a mistake from where I’m standing,” he said with glee, bracing his hands against the brick wall.

Morticia’s eyebrow ticked slighlty upwards in amusement. “Give it a few moments, mon sauvage,” she said before devouring him.

“That may be all I need,” he gasped. 

He reached down, fisting his hand in Morticia’s hair, giving it a subtle yank. She moaned around him, nearly sending Gomez over the edge. He yanked her hair once more, making her eyes roll back as she dug her nails into his thighs.

“Tish,” he cried, letting his forehead hit the rough brick wall. 

Then all too suddenly, Morticia sat back and stood, leaving Gomez gasping and dazed like a fish on a hook. “So sorry, darling, but I could have sworn I just heard Lurch ring for dinner.” She grinned wickedly, using a long nail to wipe the side of her mouth as she turned toward the door.

“Evil,” Gomez managed to say as he desperately tried to pull himself together.

She turned in the doorway with as innocent a look that was possible on Morticia’s face. “Flattery doesn’t change the fact that dinner is ready. Think about baseball.” She continued on down the hall, grinning with satisfaction to herself. When Morticia says she’ll make someone regret something, she means it.


	14. Chapter 14

Over dinner, Gomez was growing increasingly frustrated, which was only exasperated by the fact that Ophelia wouldn’t stop going on and on about Ishmael. Morticia had apparently zoned out completely and Gomez was almost tempted to lift her hair to make sure she wasn’t wearing ear plugs. Wednesday seemed to be as disengaged as her mother, while Pugsley was busy building something out of his food.

“Just go on Tinder!” Fester cried at one point. “Do us all a favor!”

Ophelia pouted slumping down in her chair. “I don’t want to start a fire, Uncle Fester.”

“I used to think that's what tinder meant,” Mama said off handedly. “Now it's my number one ap!”

“Goodness, Mama,” Morticia grumbled, proving that she wasn’t wearing ear plugs. 

“What? I’m just trying to help your sister!”

Morticia sighed, the heave of her chest almost making Gomez completely lose what little cool he had left. “Ophelia, why don’t you try being single for a little while?”

“That's exactly what I said!” Gomez exclaimed. “She won’t hear it!”

“If only Gomez wasn’t stolen away…” Ophelia sighed, repeating herself on that front for about the hundredth time. 

Morticia roughly stabbed at the food on her plate. “Perhaps a vacation would do you well?”

“A vacation?” Ophelia asked, seeming to like that idea. “Where?”

“Where ever you would like, dear,” Morticia responded, feeling hopeful that her sister would take her up on that offer. 

“The moon!”

“No, we tried that once,” Gomez said. “Didn’t work out.”

“Oh… the sun!”

“You would burn to a crisp,” Morticia pointed out.

“Let her try it,” Mama said in what she thought was a quiet tone.

“What about the Bermuda Triangle?” Wednesday suggested in an unreadable tone. 

“A cruise!” Ophelia squealed, jumping up out of her seat. “Wonderful idea, Wednesday! I’m going to go book it now!” She danced out of the dining room in an excited flurry, leaving a few daisy petals drifting behind her.

“So… is that a problem solved?” Gomez asked hopefully as he plucked a petal out of his food. 

“I don’t think we can say anything like that until she is on the boat,” Morticia muttered.

After dinner, Morticia decided to work on decorating the ball room with Lurch. That, however, was nearly three hours ago, and Gomez was growing even more frustrated than he was at dinner. He had changed into his silk pajamas and smoking jacket and went off in search of her, both out of frustration and concern for what could be keeping her so long.

“Querida,” he sighed as he walked into the ballroom. “Darling, it's late, I’m sure Lurch wants to go to bed.”

Morticia lifted her head from the black feather centerpieces she was placing on the various tables. Gomez had to admit the ballroom looked fantastic, but he didn’t want it to look fantastic at the expense of his wife’s sanity. 

Morticia looked around before letting out a long sigh. “I’m sorry, Lurch, I didn’t realize what time it was. Please, go to bed.”

Lurch groaned and nodded. “Goodnight.”

“Morticia,” Gomez said softly once Lurch was gone. “What are you doing?”

Morticia gestured vaguely around at the black and gold decorations lining the walls, which matched the marble floor perfectly. “The decorations that Terri sent over were absolutely horrendous, so Lurch and I dug these out of the attic. It's all what we used for Mama’s latest birthday, but it was a vast improvement to the pink and cream things Terri wanted, and I think she’ll quite agree once she sees what we’ve done with the place.”

“No, Morticia, I mean why are you doing it now?” he asked gently, placing his hands on her shoulders. “Come to bed, cara, please.”

“Did I ruin my sister's life?” she blurted completely out of nowhere.

Gomez’s hands fell away from her in shock, his eyebrows pulling together. “You cannot be serious, Morticia.”

She shrugged, a tired look in her dark eyes.

“Morticia,” he said in a bit harsher of a tone than intended. “You did not ruin your sister’s life by marrying me and I cannot even fathom why you would say that!”

Morticia frowned, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. “I didn’t say it to offend you, Gomez, I said it because-”

“This is exactly what we talked about earlier!” he cried, throwing his hands in the air. “You are not responsible for Ophelia!” 

“She is so miserable,” Morticia said glumly. “While I have everything I could have ever wanted.”

“And that is nothing to feel guilty over!” Gomez yelled. “You did not steal me away, I don’t care what she says! I fell in love with you the second I saw you! I would have picked you a thousand times, a million times! So stop blaming yourself for Ophelia being the way she is, goddamnit!” 

Morticia glared at him silently for a long moment, giving him a chance to cool off. Gomez took a step back, his chest heaving as he ran his fingers through his hair. She shook her head, teeth clenched until she let out a long exhale and slumped into one of the many, velvet lined party chairs, lowering her face into her hands.

“I didn’t mean to yell,” he said softly. “I just can’t stand to see you work yourself up like this over something that is not your fault.”

“I know, Gomez,” she muttered.

“I’m sorry,” he said anyway, knowing how important it was. He sunk down to his knees in front of her, cautiously putting his hands on her thighs. “Tish?”

“I know,” she said again, lifting her head from her hands. “I’m sorry too. I never meant to imply anything about our marriage.” 

He nodded, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. “I understand the place you were coming from. I just wish I could make you understand that you are Ophelia’s sister, not her keeper. Her happiness is not your responsibility. Of course you love her and want the best for her, but you are not the one in charge of giving her the best. She is a grown woman.”

“It's just so difficult,” Morticia eventually whispered.

“Querida, I know,” he said, reaching up to cup her face. “You think I don’t want to take charge every time I see a spark of an idea in Fester’s head? The man is a sucker for horrible decisions and bad women. The second he blurts something out I want to tie him to a tree and leave him for a few days so he can’t go do anything! But we have actual children to look out for, we shouldn’t have to add siblings to that list.”

She leaned her forehead against his. “You’re very smart when you want to be.”

“I did score a 260 on the Bar exam,” he said with a smile. “But I don’t like to brag.” 

A ghost of a smile crossed Morticia’s face before it fell once again. “Ophelia just showed up at a really bad time. I wouldn’t even be stressed about this PTA thing to begin with if it wasn’t for Wednesday worrying that I was becoming a Karen.”

“You? A Karen?” Gomez shook his head. “I perish the thought.”

“It was a legitimate concern of Wednesday’s,” she said with a shrug. “She is so mature that we often seem to forget that she is just a child.”

“A child who seemingly loves her mother more than anything,” Gomez said. “Though she would rather slice off her own hand than admit that.” 

Morticia nodded. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been very fun to be around because of all this. I swear to you that once this dinner is over I will be back to my old, cheery self.”

“I love you no matter what,” Gomez said, leaning up to kiss her. “Are you ready to call it a night on your stress planning? Because I still haven’t forgiven you for what you did to me before dinner.”

Morticia laughed softly. “I’m terribly sorry, my darling. I forgot all about that little incident.”

“You may have forgotten but I vividly remember,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “And I came down here fully intending to make you pay, until I saw the state you were in.”

“You can still make me pay,” she said, leaning her head on his shoulder as they walked. “I have a feeling that might be exactly what I need.”


	15. Chapter 15

It was the day of the stupid PTA party and no matter how many times Morticia told Wednesday there was nothing to worry about, Wednesday was still in a funk. It was a Saturday, she should be running around the house throwing knives at her brother. Instead she was lurking in the ballroom, debating whether or not she should dump the three bottles of tequila she swiped from her grandmother’s room in the drink mix that Lurch left out on the bar.

On the one hand, her parents might get really upset if they find out she was the reason all the parents and teachers got totally wasted. On the other, it would be absolutely hilarious to see all the normally uptight parents lose control. Wednesday smirked to herself and unscrewed the top and dumped the alcohol bottle after bottle into the red liquid. She gave it a quick stir before bolting out of the ballroom, feeling satisfied with herself. From what it sounded like, these people liked to drink, so Wednesday was really doing them a favor.

Now she just had to get rid of the evidence, which shouldn’t be too hard. Things sunk rather quickly in the swamp, after all. She nearly got rid of Pugsley that way… She took a secret tunnel to the outside and made a beeline toward the swamp. Perhaps it would be a good day, regardless of the amount of yuppies that were soon to be filling her house.

…

“You are a vision!” Gomez exclaimed as Morticia came down the stairs. “A goddess! You have blinded me with your utter radiance.”

Morticia smiled softly as Gomez began kissing her arm. “Darling, you flatter me terribly.” 

“I speak nothing but the truth!” he said, lifting his face from her shoulder. “This dress, is it new?”

“I may have ordered something,” she said coyly as Gomez examined the beaded black and purple mermaid gown. “You like it?”

“I would take you upstairs this instant if our home wasn’t about to be filled with parents,” he said with a devious wink.

“Since when has that ever stopped you before?” she asked, adjusting his bowtie.

“Quite right, querida.” In an instant he swept her into his arms. “Off we go!”

“Terri and Sherri,” Lurch grumbled, halting Gomez mid step. 

“Just my luck,” he muttered before turning around. “Ah, welcome, ladies!”

“Hi,” they said in unison, looking at him in confusion.

“Maybe you better put me down, darling,” Morticia whispered.

“Right, right.” He set her back on her feet and wound his arm around her waist. “Just a bit of pre party excitement, it's a lovely night for it, isn’t it?” Thunder clapped loudly outside as the sound of rain slapping the roof echoed through the foyer.

“Nearly ruined my hair,” Terri said as she handed Lurch her rain coat. “It's a good thing we didn’t plan a garden party.”

“It is indeed,” Morticia agreed. “My poison oak won’t be in full bloom for at least another month.”

“God, you’re adorable,” Terri said with a laugh.

“We can’t wait to see the ballroom,” Sherri added, shaking out the skirt of her blush pink dress.

“Why don’t you show them upstairs, querida? Lurch and I will man the door for the other guests!”

“Thank you, dear,” Morticia said before softly kissing his cheek, leaving behind a faint, red smudge. “This way, ladies, I’m sure you will be thrilled.” 

“We should just give it a quick once over before the other parents show up,” Terri said, shifting into business mode. “Check the seating arrangements and all that.”

“Of course, of course.” Morticia pushed open the doors to the ballroom, stopping Terri and Sherri in their tracks.

“What…”

“Oh my…”

Morticia turned to look at them, confused by their shocked expressions. “I know I deviated a bit from your initial plans, but I do think it looks so much better this way. It's much more… elegant.”

“Howdy!” Fester yelled, popping out from behind the gargoyle shaped ice sculpture. “Who wants a drink?” He held out a tray of red liquid filled goblets. “I’ve had five!”

“Me!” Sherri said, darting toward him. 

“I must say, Morticia,” Terri began as she walked around to inspect all the various decorations. She seemed particularly intrigued by the thorn filled vases in the corners of the room. “It isn’t bad.”

“It isn’t?” Sherri asked in shock around her drink. 

“No, it has a sort of gothic romance to it. I can’t believe it, but I like it.” Terri was completely in shock, it was clear, Morticia just didn’t know why it would be shocking.

“I knew you would,” Morticia said happily. “And Mama has been working in the kitchen all day, she should be bringing the food upstairs any moment. Fester is going to help out with serving as well.”

“Watch this!” he cried, putting the full tray of drinks on his head. “Ta da!”

“I must admit, that is something,” Terri said. “What that something is, I don’t know.”

“Sister dear!” came Ophelia’s sing songy voice from the hallway. “That food smells so good, set a spot for me!” She stopped short in the door, her face folding into a frown. “God, Morticia, everything you do is so bleak.”

Morticia sucked in a breath, fighting to calm herself down. “Ophelia, this is a PTA dinner. You’re neither a parent or a teacher, dear. However, you could help Mama down in the kitchen.”

“No,” Ophelia whined, walking over to take a drink off of Fester’s head. “That doesn’t sound like fun.”

“We can squeeze in a spot for you, Ophelia,” Sherri said. “Right?” 

“Right,” Terri added. “We can put her by Mr. Bradley, he’s partially deaf.”

“Perfect,” Morticia said, walking over to make a new place card for her sister.

“Oh, yay!” Ophelia said, clapping her hands. “It will be perfect mingling practice for when I go on my cruise!”

“And this is great uncle Esophagus!” Gomez’s booming voice said from the hallway. “He died by choking on a bone, how ironic! Anyway, here’s the ballroom!” He led a few stunned faces through the doorway, where their faces grew even more stunned. “Enjoy the party!”

“Thank you, darling,” Morticia said fondly, reaching out to pat his cheek.

“Cara mia,” he whispered, quickly kissing her hand before making his way back downstairs.

“I’ve got the food!” Mama yelled, coming in through a secret passage. Thing was following behind, balancing a single serving tray. “Fester, go get the rest from the kitchen!”

“But I’m playing waiter!” he yelled, the two of them oblivious to the guests that Terri and Sherri were trying to make small talk with. 

“What is that?” someone shrieked, jumping away as Thing scampered by with the tray.

“Oh, that's just Thing,” Morticia said. “He’s very handy.”

Meanwhile, as all the guests arrived and took their seats, Wednesday and Pugsley were hiding behind a large portrait of an ancestor, watching out of a set of eye holes cut out of the bottom. They were sharing a plate of yak fudge as they waited for everyone to get drunk enough for the party to be ruined. 

“How many other bottles of alcohol did you find in Grandmama’s room?” Pugsley asked.

“At least five,” Wednesday said with a shrug. “There was weed as well.”

“Huh… I thought her skunk smell was just her perfume.”

Wednesday rolled her eyes. “No, Pugsley.” 

“Look, there's my old teacher!” Pugsley exclaimed, pointing through the eye hole. “He’s sitting by Aunt Ophelia.” 

“He’ll be fully deaf soon enough.”

“Aunt Ophelia has had like three cups of the punch you spiked,” Pugsley pointed out. “Her daisies might wilt.”

“Good.” 

“I don’t know why you didn’t just let me plant an explosive in the chicken,” Pugsley pouted. “It would have been way funnier and way quicker.”

“Because I don’t want Mother and Father to know it was me,” she stated. “I just want them to think that the PTA is full of lightweights.” 

“What's a prank without glory?”

“Mother has been on my case enough lately,” Wednesday sighed.

“Oh, so you want to make her mad?”

“Opposite. I want to get my comeuppance and also not be a suspect.”

“Come muppets?”

Wednesday rolled her eyes again. “Eat your fudge, Pugsley.”


	16. Chapter 16

“This is going well,” Gomez whispered to Morticia. “Everyone is so very friendly.”

Morticia nodded, though she felt sort of suspicious. Everyone was very chatty throughout dinner, asking questions about the house and things of that nature. Not that Morticia found this unusual, but for this specific group of people, it was. At that very first meeting, no one gave Morticia the time of day until Terri did, and that was how most school functions went. 

“You see, cara mia, these people just needed to get to know us,” he continued, and Morticia noticed he was leaning heavily on her. 

“Gomez… how much have you had to drink?”

Gomez shrugged, looking at the table to count his glasses. “Two.” 

Morticia raised an eyebrow. Sure, it didn’t take too terribly much to get Gomez tipsy, but this seemed like a stretch. “Maybe lay off, my darling.”

“You aren’t feeling it?” he asked, still leaning on her.

“Gomez, I don’t drink punch,” Morticia almost laughed.

“Boooooozy punch,” he said with a laugh. 

Morticia glanced around at all the parents and teachers seated around them. Oddly enough, they all seemed to be as giggly as her husband. Something was off. Terri was about to give her asking for money speech and Sherri was nowhere to be seen. On top of that, the elderly librarian was dancing in front of the string quartet, though that wasn’t too, too odd. Morticia had seen far worse at an average Addams gathering.

Morticia patted Gomez’s shoulder before sliding out of her seat. She walked over to the bar where Fester was supposed to be in charge of the drinks, only to find him slumped on the floor and hugging a dead fish. “Uncle Fester,” she hissed. She only got a snore in response. “Fester!” 

He snapped his eyes open, looking down at the fish in his arms. “Debbie?”

“Fester, are you drunk?” Morticia whispered, not wanting to draw any attention toward them.

“Oh yeah, big time. Lurch made the punch extra, extra, tequila-y. Give him a raise!” Fester cried, scrambling to his feet. “Where did I get this fish?”

Morticia looked around the ballroom. “Where is Lurch?”

“I haven’t seen him since the horse divorce.”

Morticia stared blankly at him. “Horse divorce?” 

“Yeah, you know, the food before the dinner!”

“Hors d'oeuvres?” Morticia cried.

“Tish!” Gomez cried over the noise. There was a sound of glass shattering before he appeared at her side, kissing his way up her arm. “That was French!”

“Darling, later,” Morticia sighed, patting the top of his head. “I need to find Lurch.”

“Lurch can’t kiss your arm with the same veracity as me!”

“Gomez,” she groaned. “I have a feeling that we have an entire room full of drunk people and we’re going to be needing some coffee to balance things out if we don’t want any of our possessions to go missing.” 

“Eh, they’re only things,” he said with a shrug.

“Darling.” Morticia took his face in her hands. “Focus. We don’t need a repeat of last year's family reunion in Reno.”

Gomez nodded in understanding. “Cousin Fledge did get a little out of control.”

“He crashed a go kart into a lake and no one found him for three days.”

“He did get his own magic show out of it.”

“Attention, please,” Terri said loudly from the small podium at the front of the room. “Hey, everyone!”

“Oh dear,” Morticia sighed. “She sounds very informal.” 

“Oh yeah, Terri was pounding them,” Fester added unhelpfully. 

“PTA in the house!” Terri said before doing a horribly embarrassing arm gesture. “Firstly, we have to give a round of applause to the Addams family for letting us use their spectacularly spooky house!”

There was a chorus of applause and Gomez started bowing, nearly falling on his face in the process. Morticia pulled on his collar to keep him upright as she smiled demurely at the clapping people while also trying to figure out whether or not this was going to be a bad situation.

“Seriously, Sherri and I couldn’t have done this without Morticia,” Terri said with a slight slur. “Speaking of… has anyone seen my right hand lady? Sherri?”

“Oh no, she probably fell through one of the trap doors,” Gomez sighed. “Let's just hope it wasn’t the one with the alligators.” 

“Did someone call me?” Sherri asked, stumbling through the doors to the ballroom. She was missing a shoe and her hair was a mess and Morticia was pretty sure the back of her dress wasn’t zipped all the way up.

“Oh, juicy,” Fester whispered, stroking his fish in a weird way.

Moments later, Lurch tried to sneak in the same door, but that was made rather difficult by his large frame. Morticia’s jaw dropped open as she noticed the lipstick prints on his face and his rumpled and untucked shirt. Gomez noticed at the same time but was far less discrete about it than his wife. 

“Lurch old man!” Gomez cried. “Good for you! See, Tish? I told you Lurch gets it on the reg!”

Lurch groaned and shook his head before backing out of the ballroom. Thing scurried after him, either to comfort him or get details on what happened. Morticia was shaking her head as Gomez continued to chuckle. This was entertaining at least, Morticia had to admit.

“Did you say that Sherri is married?” Gomez whispered.

“Yes, but not happily,” Morticia whispered back. “I doubt Lurch realized, however. He would be crushed if he knew.” 

“Sherri, everyone!” Terri said loudly over the secondhand embarrassment. “Sherri, who did a wonderful job arranging stuff and things for tonight!”

“This is going downhill fast,” Morticia said, grabbing Gomez’s arm, only to find that he had yet another glass of the overly boozy punch. “Gomez!”

“What?” he asked. “It's delicious. I hope I get the tequila worm.”

“Darling, they don’t put the worm in any more.”

“What? That is bullshit!” He looked around, but what he was looking for was unclear. “I am going to buy a tequila farm and put so many worms in! So many worms!”

“Yes, we can do that tomorrow,” Morticia said gently, patting his chest. “But let's let Terri make her… speech. If we can even call it that.”

Sherri stumbled up to Terri’s side and plopped down on the podium. “Listen, give us money so we can keep our ungrateful kids in a happy environment, end of.”

“Let's cheers to that!” Fester said, rushing up beside them with a fresh tray. “This is the last of the punch!”

“This is turning out just like Reno,” Gomez said with an amused laugh. “Querida, remember what we did in the hotel pool?” His eyebrows started bouncing up and down. “The lifeguard was terrified.”

“Yes, how could I forget?” Morticia said with a smirk. “You got horrible swimmers ear afterwards.”

“Yes, it was amazing.” He finished off his glass and leaned his head on her shoulder. “I love you, Tish.”

“Furthermore!” Terri yelled, clapping her hands. “We need more drinks. Drinks!” 

“Right here!” Mama yelled, bounding into the room with several more bottles of tequila, to which the room erupted into cheers. 

“Mama,” Morticia hissed. “I think these people have had enough.”

“Lighten up, Morticia,” Mama scoffed. “You wanted to throw a good party, didn’t you?”

“Well… yes.”

“Then do a shot and loosen up! You’ve been very tense this week!”

Morticia glared at her for a long moment, debating internally. Someone needed to stay level headed since everyone else was seemingly out of commission.. Then again, if she got any more tense Morticia felt like she was going to crack in half. Just when Morticia was about to cave, her sister jumped up onto a table and made an unexpected declaration.

“I’m in love!” Ophelia yelled. “With this man right here!”

Ophelia reached down and pulled the elderly, partially deaf Mr. Bradley to his feet. He waved to everyone, flashing a thumbs up.

“We’re getting married!”

“You are not!” Morticia cried, storming over to their table. “Ophelia, you’re just drunk, come down from there.”

“Why? So you can steal him too?”

Morticia’s eyes flared with anger. “For the thousandth time, I did not steal Gomez from you!”

“Oh my God, that is some juicy information!” Yelled Wednesday’s teacher. “It would make sooooo much sense about things. You stole him from your sister? Drama!”

“No, not technically.” Morticia looked around, finding that all eyes were now on her. She turned back to her sister, who was spinning around on top of the table. “Ophelia, come down and we can talk calmly.”

“Dear, Mr. Bradley,” Ophelia said, turning away from Morticia. “Let's go upstairs!”

“Do you even know his first name?” Morticia asked. “It could be something horrible like Dale, or Neil, or Josh.”

“It's Eustice!” Mr. Bradley said happily.

“Oh... well, that's a lovely name, Mr. Bradley.”

“Thanks, sis!”

“No, no,” Morticia said with a shake of her head. “Do not call me that.”

“You’re always so jealous!” Ophelia said in a snotty tone. She hopped off the table and swept Mr. Bradley up into her arms and danced out of the room with him. “I’ve bagged a real hunk, and he doesn’t have a strange mustache!”

“Hey!” Gomez yelled from where he was now sitting on top of the bar. “What's wrong with my mustache?”

“Nothing, darling,” Morticia sighed. “I love your mustache.”

“Mhhmm,” Terri said, now looking in his direction. “That's a mustache ride I’d like to take.”

Morticia spun toward Terri so quickly it nearly knocked the inebriated woman over. “I’m sorry, Terri, I don’t believe I heard you correctly.” She crossed her arms, keeping her frosty gaze locked on Terri.

“Querida, she said she wanted to take my mustache for a ride!” Gomez yelled. “Jokes on her, it doesn’t come off my face so I don’t know how oh…” his eyes went wide. “Oh no, only Morticia is allowed to do that.”

“Morticia, I’m drunk,” Terri tried to amend, putting her heavy hand on her shoulder. 

Morticia took a step away, letting her hand fall. “As is everyone, it would seem.”

Sherri ran up just as the tension seemed to reach its peak. “We are getting so many donations!” she whisper yelled. “This is amazing! It's all because of you, Morticia!”

She looked around the ballroom, finding that everyone had grown bored of their conversation and were dancing around to the quartet, and it didn’t quite match the music. Gomez had wandered over and wound his arm around Morticia’s waist, taking in the strange scene. 

“Darling, this is beginning to look like an actual party,” he observed, pulling out a cigar. “Lurch is getting biffed, Sherri doesn’t realize people are throwing money at her because her dress is coming off, Fester is doing unspeakable things with that fish behind the bar, the librarian took her wig off.”

“What is Fester doing with that fish?” Morticia asked, feeling a migraine forming behind her eyes. It wasn't unpleasant, per se. 

Gomez smirked. “I think you already know what he is doing with that fish.”

Morticia sighed. “We need to make sure he doesn’t put it back in the kitchen.” 

“You know, this isn’t the first time he’s done that with a fish. At least this time it’s fully dead.”

“I’m so tired, Gomez,” she muttered. “This has gotten out of hand.”

“Querida, look around,” he said encouragingly. “Look at the fun these people are having! And on the gloomy side, no one is going to remember a thing.” 

Morticia nodded in agreement. “It's an absolute disaster.”

“Horrendous!” Gomez said in agreement.

“A horrible nightmare.”

They looked at each other for a moment, smiles slowly forming across their faces. “It's perfect!” they said in unison.

“Querida!” Gomez opened his arms with a wide smile.

Morticia folded against him, looping her arms around his neck. “Querido.” 

They kissed each other passionately as Gomez went to dip her. Unfortunately, Gomez was still rather intoxicated and he dropped Morticia right down to the marble ground. He gasped, eyes going wide with shock. “Tish, I’m so sorry!”

She propped herself up on her elbows, shaking her head. “No worries, my darling. It felt nice.”

He grinned and instead of helping her up, Gomez slid down to the floor beside her. “This party is making me think we should host the family reunion here next year.”

Morticia considered this for a moment. “You know, I think I could confidently pull it off after tonight.”

“Cara mia,” he sighed, leaning in to kiss her once again as the almost out of control party raged around them.

Hours later the PTA finally calmed down and were making their way at a rather slow and somewhat ashamed pace out of the Addams house. Morticia and Gomez were at the door, waving people off and making sure no one got behind the wheel that couldn’t drive. Eventually the only ones left were Terri and Sherri, who looked to be in a state they wouldn’t soon recover from.

“I think that's going to go down in history as the wildest PTA fundraiser ever,” Sherri laughed. “Um, anyway, we’re all in agreement not to tell my husband that I had sex with your butler, right?”

Morticia laughed softly to herself. “Your secret is safe with us. We wouldn’t want word getting out about poor Lurch, he’s much too gentle to fight.”

“Good, well, our Uber is here. Thank you so much for hosting, Tisha,” Sherri said before pulling Morticia into a hug. “I think I needed this night more than I realized. I actually had fun instead of just pretending to have fun.”

Gomez snickered to himself before quietly muttering, “Tisha,” under his breath.

Morticia shot him a look as she peeled Sherri off her. “Any time. I’m glad it was a success and I’m glad you had fun.”

“Really, thank you,” Terri added as Sherri started pulling her away. “I share Sherri’s same sentiments. This might be a turning point for us.” She started to walk toward the door before turning around and quickly saying, “And I’m really sorry for saying I wanted to ride your husband's mustache.”

Gomez continued laughing as he sipped on a glass of who knows what. Morticia not so subtly slid her arm across his shoulders as she smiled at Terri. “It's forgotten. Goodnight.”

Finally everyone was gone, and the house was back to it's crypt like silence. Gomez was smiling smugly as they turned and made their way up the stairs. “I’ve still got it, Tisha.”

“Ugh,” she groaned loudly. “You are the only person in the world allowed to give me a nickname. And on top of that, you don’t need to look so pleased about Terri’s remarks.”

He chuckled, tossing his now empty glass behind them so it shattered on the stairs. “I would have much rather heard that statement from your mouth, my dearest.”

“I wouldn’t have phrased it so crassly,” Morticia said before kissing his cheek.

“Tell me how you would have phrased it,” he said, nuzzling his face into her neck.

“You go get in bed, and perhaps I’ll tell you then,” she whispered in a seductive tone. “I’m going to go check on the children to make sure they’re asleep.”

“Do be quick, I beg of you, my love,” Gomez called as he stumbled toward their bedroom.

Morticia watched with concern as he bumped into the wall. “Can you make it?”

He flashed her a thumbs up. “A okay!”


	17. Chapter 17

Wednesday was able to slide in bed, attempting to look innocent, right as her mother walked in. She was really hoping she had no idea how she and Pugsley spent their night, but she did just come from his room and Wednesday wasn’t confident in his ability not to crack under pressure.

“You’re still up?” Morticia asked, shutting the door behind her. “Your brother was fast asleep.”

“There was a lot of noise,” Wednesday said with a shrug. “Boys can sleep through anything.”

“Your father is evidence of that,” Morticia said with a soft laugh. “May I?” She gestured to the foot of her bed.

Wednesday nodded reluctantly. She felt like she was caught at this point, and seeing as she couldn’t keep things from her mother, she blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

Morticia shapely eyebrows pulled together in confusion. “For what?” 

“I put Grandmama’s tequila in the punch then Pugsley and I watched everything from behind a portrait.” So much for thinking Pugsley would be the one to crack under pressure. There wasn’t even any pressure to begin with! All her mother did was walk into her room! She needed to toughen up and fast.

Morticia let out a long sigh. “Oh, Wednesday…why? I thought we were past all of this.” 

Wednesday shrugged and started messing with the end of one of her braids. “I don’t know to be honest. I just, I guess I wasn’t as over it as I thought. But then I saw how Mrs. Shannon was thanking you and Father and giving us so much credit, and it seemed like everyone had fun. Too much fun.”

“You wanted to strike first,” Morticia said in understanding. “In case things went more sinister than anticipated.” 

“Yes, I suppose that was it.” She continued playing with her braid so she wouldn’t have to look at her mother. “Are you mad?”

Morticia was silent for a long while, prompting Wednesday to finally look up at her. “I’m not mad, my darling,” she finally sighed, sounding as if she was exhausted. “You inadvertently made the party a success. I should be thanking you.”

“I guess that means you’re a permanent part of the PTA then.”

Morticia shook her head, her eyelids drooping. “No. Tonight was a success, and while Terri and Sherri are much nicer than we initially gave them credit for, I cannot do this again. Wednesday, I have only ever had one person exhaust me the way those two do and it is your aunt. If I keep this up my hair will turn gray and between you and me, I cannot have that happen.”

Wednesday felt like she was on the verge of smiling. “You mean it?”

Morticia nodded. “Yes. On top of not wanting to go gray, I also don’t want to keep making you uncomfortable.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.”

“Nonsense,” Morticia said with a wave of her hand. “I would do anything for you, don’t forget that.”

Wordlessly, Wednesday leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Morticia’s waist. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Of course, my darling.”

“You look really nice,” Wednesday said softly. “And I think you’d look pretty with gray hair.”

Morticia laughed. “You will never see it, but I appreciate it.” She leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“Is Aunt Ophelia going to marry Mr. Bradley?” she asked after a moment of silence.

“I doubt it,” Morticia said flatly. “She’ll probably get bored within a day.”

“Or she’s going to give him a heart attack.”

“Very true. Alright, it's time for bed.” Morticia stood, pulling the stiff sheets up around Wednesday. “Unpleasant dreams, my darling.”

“Mother?” Wednesday said right as she got to the door.

“Yes?” 

“I love you,” she whispered, kind of hoping her mother wouldn’t hear her.

“I love you too,” Morticia whispered back, slowly snapping off the light. “Oh, not to ruin the moment, but you didn’t happen to see what your uncle did with that fish, did you?”

Wednesday slowly shook her head. “No…”

“Good,” Morticia said, eyes wide. “Good.” 

…

Morticia was feeling dead tired by the time she finally dragged herself to her bedroom. She pushed the door open, forgetting that Ophelia had busted the lock. It slammed against the wall, which produced a loud snore from Gomez, who had fallen asleep fully clothed, face down on the bed. 

Morticia shook her head as she walked over to the bed. “Such a lightweight, darling,” she muttered as she pulled off his shoes. 

“Am not,” he mumbled in sleepy defiance. 

“I have something to tell you that I think you’ll find rather amusing,” she said, hoping to coax his face out from flat against the mattress.

“I’m all ears… I wish.” 

“I’ll tell you if you manage to get yourself ready for bed,” she said as she fought back a laugh.

“Fine,” he eventually grumbled, painfully rolling over.

Morticia quickly went about her evening routine, eager to get in bed, only to once again find Gomez asleep. Only this time he managed to get under the covers, but had a lit cigar hanging precariously from his lips. She slid in beside him and removed the cigar, stubbing it out on the bedside table.

“Hey,” he whined as she snapped off the light.

“I don’t want you setting the bed on fire again, I like these sheets.”

“Tell me the thing,” he sighed, slinging his arm over her waist and resting his head on her chest.

“Wednesday is responsible for your inebriated state as well as everyone else’s,” she informed him. “She stole the tequila from your mother’s room.”

Gomez let out a soft laugh. “Funny.” 

Morticia rolled her eyes into the darkness. “Goodnight, my love.” She kissed the top of his head and shut her eyes, only to be interrupted seconds later.

“Hey, Tish.”

“Mmhhmm?” 

“Let's have sex.”

“No, you’re very drunk,” she laughed.

“Am not.”

“You keep saying that yet you can’t even keep your eyes open,” Morticia pointed out. “We can have sex in the morning if you aren’t too hungover.”

Gomez let out a prolonged groan. “I’m going to feel terrible. It's going to be great.”

“Go to sleep, Gomez.”

“Yes, ma’am.” For a moment, Morticia actually thought he fell asleep, but then he spoke once again. “Morticia, are you awake?”

“Yes, Gomez, because you keep talking.” She tried to sound annoyed, but it was near impossible for her to get even fake mad at her husband.

“I love youuuuuu,” he sang, reaching up to poke her nose. He missed however and ended up jabbing her in the eye. “Your nose feels weird.”

“Because that is my eyeball,” she said, moving his finger. 

“Sorry, did it hurt? Was it excruciating?” 

“A little bit.”

“... you liked it.”

“... Perhaps.”


	18. Chapter 18

About a week had passed since the infamous party and while things were all normal in the Addams house, the other attendees were either fighting to recall the night or knew enough to be horribly embarrassed. Ophelia had left on her cruise with Mr. Bradley, who had to get off at the next port because Ophelia had in fact, made him go completely deaf. Wednesday heard bits and pieces about Kelsey’s party from that same night and discovered that she had made the correct choice in not attending. There was a cotton candy maker and pink mud masks, that sounded like a real nightmare.

Though it would seem the nightmare was currently tracking Wednesday through the halls. “Hump Day!” Kelsey yelled, her sparkly Uggs squeaking as she tried to catch up.

“What?” Wednesday replied in a bored tone, no longer wanting to let on to how much she despised that nickname.

“Give this to your mom,” Kelsey sighed, handing over a cream and gold envelope. “It's for the next PTA meeting.”

Instead of trying to hide it like her gut told her to, Wednesday did just that as soon as she locked Pugsley out of the house. “Another PTA thing,” she sighed in lieu of a greeting.

Morticia looked up from the three pair of mittens she was working on, taking the envelope with a smirk. Instead of opening it, she handed it to Thing, who expertly tossed it into the fireplace. “As I said, I cannot go through it again.”

Wednesday smiled, right as Pugsley smashed through the window. “Stop locking me out!”

“Didn’t we give you a key, Pugsley?” Gomez asked from the headstand he was in. 

“Yeah, but I got hungry during class one day and I ate it,” he said with a shrug.

“We can ask Lurch to pack you more snacks so you don’t have to resort to eating keys,” Morticia said with a shake of her head.

“Speaking of!” Gomez said loudly, hopping to his feet. “Has Lurch heard anything from you know who?”

“I’m afraid not,” Morticia whispered, putting her arm over Wednesday’s shoulders. “I think it might be really bothering him too. He’s been so quiet this week, not at all like his normal, chatty self.” 

Gomez shrugged. “Maybe I have a cousin for him from somewhere.”

“Now darling, as I told Ophelia, being in a relationship isn’t everything.”

“That's true I guess. Except in our case,” he said, getting down on one knee and taking Morticia’s free arm in his hands. “Cara mia.”

“Mon cher,” she sighed.

“That's our cue, Pugsley,” Wednesday said, quickly getting off the couch. “Let's go play a game.”

“Cool, what game?”

“I always like, ‘is there a God?’”

“Goody, me too!”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you all so much for reading! I'm on Tumblr @helloitshaley if anyone wants to stop by:)


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